Book 1: The Key and the Carpenter
by ReverendKilljoy
Summary: Post Season 7, Xander Harris pursues a life less extraordinary. After finishing prep school, Dawn Summers pursues the man who got away. Romance, action, drama, and trauma. Plus a monorail- everyone loves a monorail! The first in a series of three novellas.
1. Prologue and Parts 1 to 3

Disclaimers:

Based wholly or partly on characters and situations created by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox Television and who knows what others. Rated T: An unauthorized work of speculative fiction with some adult situations and sexual content, graphic language, brief nudity and mature themes. Parental discretion is advised. Any similarity between these characters and any person or persons living, dead, or Canadian is purely coincidental and/or comical. Do not distribute for profit or without notification please. Not to be taken internally. No user-serviceable parts inside. Made in the USA. Where do we go from here? Strongest fan fiction available without a prescription. May cause dizziness, dry mouth or nausea. Do not read my fan fiction while driving, drinking or operating heavy machinery.

_Author's Note: Edited for minor errors and clarity throughout. Consider this the Buffy universe, post-"Chosen" and more or less compatible with canon through the end of Angel S5. So then, please take pull up a printout, settle in, and enjoy "The Key and the Carpenter."_

_-ReverendKilljoy_

**The Key and the Carpenter**

**Prologue.**

November 24.

His hands were scarred. If you knew the scars, you could mark out the stories of his past like picking out constellations in the stars. A thin cut, like a large knife or a small sword might make sliding down past the hilt of his blade. A half-dozen years working with hammers, saws and pliers had left their marks as well. The tiny white circle, a nail gun had put a brad right through the edge of his hand. His wrists were both chafed permanently, where he had pulled out of manacles, or ropes, or both, over the years. They were not pretty hands.

No one who worked with him would know that he thought about this. He was outgoing, inquisitive, and inclusive in a way that made him a natural leader for the mixed crews of volunteers and paid laborers on the Habitat jobs. He had the natural gift of talking to anyone, and the selflessness to not be too full of himself. He could be quiet too, with the quiet of a man who didn't naturally know when to shut up, but had had it painfully taught to him over the years.

He carefully held a piece of molding against a doorjamb and checked the fit. Then he tilted his head to the right and checked again.

"kerFFFT!" said the nail gun mutedly. Look. Tilt. Look. "kerFFFT!" And so on, in a methodical way down the molding strip till it was fastened. Securing the nail gun, he backed away from his last task of the day. This was the finishing piece on the doorway, the doorway to a bedroom. The bedroom was in a small but solid house, the house in a development at the edge of town. Habitat for Humanity was building the house for a single dad, a widower and his three kids who were living in a shelter just outside Lago Vista.

He began to shake off the dust, that pungent blend of gypsum board and sawdust and latex house paint that says New House Smell, and put away his tools. He was the last to leave the site, and would normally be the first to arrive in the morning. Not tomorrow, tomorrow Carlos and Mandy would have to boss things. He was sure they would be fine.

**I.**

The Previous September.

For almost ten years, he had fought the good fight. Demons, vampires, gods, and evil men had taken their toll on his friends, his town, and his body. He had never surrendered. He had rarely wavered. In the last battle, even after losing his eye, he had stood his ground. But that had been the beginning of the end, the fight against the First. He had reached the limit of what he could do, how far he could push, and he had looked to find another way to make his life count.

He had thought about going hardcore, like Robin Wood. A life of training, sacrifice, training, and did I mention the training? But he knew that he didn't have it in him, too much empathy for that kind of isolated warrior Zen. He was, in the end, a nice guy, a good carpenter, a loyal friend. He needed to find another way to fight.

He had been sitting at the airport, LAX, waiting for his best friend Willow and her girlfriend to meet him. They had been to China on some sort of demon diplomacy thing, very hush-hush, for the new Watchers' Council. It helped him realize that he was getting farther out of his depth. They would always need him as a friend, a moral compass. He was the guy who fixed things, who provided the unconditional love, who put the world above his own happiness. But less and less did they need him along for every step, and when Willow called to tell him they were late, he knew it was time.

"We have to go to Cleveland and pick up Vi, then we're going straight to London…" Willow's voice was still breathlessly girlish over his cell phone, and it made him smile. "So, er, do you want to come with? I know Buffy misses you, and I bet she'll be in London. I think Rome is starting to make her a little with the crazy," she confided.

"I can't, Will. Dawn is coming back to see me in a few weeks when she's done at school, and I promised Disneyland. If I left now I'd have to turn right back around." His voice was calm, sure. He sounded so much like a grownup that Willow, still miles from LA on a JAL flight, shot a look at her phone to make sure she had the right number.

"Okay, well I guess that makes sense. You guys have fun, and see you soon. Well, soon as you come see us, or we come see you. But if we come see you and you come see us we'd miss each other…" Her girlfriend, Kennedy, laid a hand on her shoulder, not opening her eyes where she was dozing next to Willow.

"Honey. Babbling."

"Oh. Right. With the babbling." Willow squeezed Kennedy's hand and directed her attention back to her cell phone. "Xander, I miss you, too. Love you."

"Love, Will. Safe travels." He hung up and looked at the phone. He now officially had nothing to do till Dawn came for Disney. Well, one little thing. He had to go by an insurance office and pick up a check. Seems the company had carried insurance on all its workers back in Sunnydale, and in addition to his layoff package there was some sort of bonus for management. He'd never thought of himself as management, but the lawyer had said they had a check, so he figured he'd go pick it up.

Xander had done well for himself in Sunnydale, near the end. The school that had been sucked into the Hellmouth during the final battle with the First had been brought in on time, and under budget. His bosses had planned on surprising him with a promotion- Project Manager for Residential and Commercial Construction. Instead, they had fled Sunnydale along with most of the 'civilian' population and the company was basically gone. The lawyers were closing up shop and closing the books.

What Xander didn't know was that he had already been listed with the company's law firm in LA and with their insurance company as a management employee. The two dollars for ADD that came out of his weekly check, he knew, was something about benefits. Accidental Death and Dismemberment insurance, it was, and based on his newly promoted salary, it came to quite a bit. His layoff package was also generous, since so few officers of the company had made it out and been contacted by the lawyers. For losing an eye, even off the job site, his company ADD insurance was substantial. With his layoff buyout…

"Mr. Harris?" The receptionist took in the rather broad-shouldered man, with unruly dark hair starting to show some premature whitening at the temples. If it weren't for the eye patch he'd be sort of cute, she thought.

"Present, er, I mean, yes?" Being called by his last name still brought school flashbacks after all this time.

She smiled at his somewhat lopsided grin, and thrust a clipboard at him. If it weren't for the grin, he'd be sort of dashing, she thought.

"Please print your name at the top, and sign on both highlighted sections, and you can take your check."

"Sure." He printed. He signed. "Um, thanks."

She looked after him. Okay, cute and dashing, she decided.

He walked to his car, the stiff envelope in his back pocket. He figured he had a full paycheck coming to him, maybe two. Things had been so crazy at the end, and it had taken almost two years to get this to him. Still, it would be nice to have some walking-around money.

His basic living expenses were modest by California standards, and he worked odd carpentry jobs to supplement the stipend Buffy had arranged for him as a 'Consultant' to the new Watcher's Council. He enjoyed an older but comfortable one bedroom in an LA suburb called Lago Vista, sublet from a newly activated Slayer in Training. She was probably complaining to Giles and Andrew about English food right about now. Xander worked most days, took off most weekends. He was never broke and rarely flush, but the sheer normalcy of it was starting to become very comforting, if a little lonely.

On his way to the bank, he passed his favorite video store. His "Chronicles of Narnia" box set was due in, prepaid, and with the trip to LAX he had totally forgotten about it. With visions of talking lions, monsters that can be killed by ordinary swords, and armies that don't include dying teenage girls crying out in the night, he turned in at the video shop and stuffed the check into the console of his car, to lie forgotten for weeks.

**II.**

October 8.

Xander drove his Chrysler into the pickup area of the terminal at LAX. Before September 11, you could wait at the gates for your friends and family. When things had been really bad at home one Christmas years ago, he had actually driven to LAX with his buddy Jesse, just to watch people coming off the planes. Just to see the hugs, the happy reunions, the kisses, and the crying.

Today it was his family coming home, and he had to circle like a parking lot vulture at Wal-Mart instead of waiting at the jet-way. He cocked his head at his own thought. Dawn was family? Well, how else… Real or imagined, she had been a part of his life for 10 years, and she was extra special to him because, like him, she wasn't special. Not the super powered strength and healing, or veiny blowing up the world kind of special, anyway.

All he knew was, he'd missed her. She had been finishing school back east, and had decided to see him before going over to Europe with her sister. It flattered him that she came to see him first, that he still mattered in her world. She was such a good kid, and had handled a rough life with humor and dignity, after a tough start at school. She might have shoplifted a little, been a bit unwise in her choice of crushes (Ahem! Spike! Ahem!), but she had grown past it. Xander sometimes wondered if her sister ever noticed just how far Dawn had put her problems into the past. He doubted it. Buffy usually had to have her nosed rubbed in it to see people had changed, for better or for worse.

He suddenly saw a figure jump out at the car and he mashed down on the brake. The car lurched to a stop and his heart lurched with it. He was a good driver, but his blind side some times made him almost too cautious behind the wheel, and sudden changes startled him.

"Hey watch it, lady," he said out loud. "Just watch it, really pretty lady. Really pretty lady who is waving at me and shouting something. Really pretty lady who is… Dawnie?" He shut up, mercifully, just as she opened the door.

**III.**

"XANDER!" She leaned across the seats and hugged him, her floppy hat sliding off to release the cascade of brown hair he had been looking for in the crowd.

"At your service, Dawn Patrol." He threw a quick salute as he gathered his thoughts. That could have been awkward, he mused. "Where's your stuff?"

"Just this," she said slinging a carryon bag into the back and sliding into the seat next to him. "I've been trying to call you and tell you I was here, but my phone's dead and the charger is, I am pretty sure, in the suitcase the airline has sent to Columbus."

He carefully merged back into the flow and headed for the airport exit. He gestured towards the glove box.

"If you still have that little Motorola I sent you, I have a spare plug in the console somewhere I think. Welcome to LA, Dawnie."

Before looking for the cord, she turned, pulling one leg up and twisting round to face him. "Welcome to LA? What am I, a tourist? I've lived my whole life in California, Xander. If I had a home to come home to, this would be it."

She suddenly dimpled. "Gosh it's good to see you. I'm so glad you decided to let me come visit." She touched his arm in a very comfortable way, careful not to distract him but wanting to let him feel that she was there.

Dawn had been the best at being comfortable around him after he lost his eye, always staying on his good side, or keeping a fingertip on his arm or a little stream of chatter and humming that let him place her in the room, even when he could not see her. It wasn't something she practiced, and neither of them ever commented on it. She was just the one girl he could always relate to, literally relate to, like a navigation beacon. Hmmm, not a very flattering image. He grinned.

"You can always come here, Dawnie. You know that."

They settled in for the drive to his place, and she began to hunt for a charger for her phone.

"Any chance we can stop by a mall for a minute? I'm going to need some things if they can't get my suitcase here tonight."

"As if. You've never stopped at a mall for only a minute in your life."

She let loose a low chuckle that was warm and honest. "Guilty as charged. I throw myself on the mercy of the court!"

"Well, call me Your Honor and we'll stop after we get back to Lago Vista. Not a completely horrible town, at least by non-Sunnydale standards"

"Yes, Your Honor. Hey, you a spy or something now?" She was looking at a folded envelope of heavy paper, stamped 'Personal and Confidential' in red across the flap. "Very Top Secret looking."

Xander spared a quick glance at the envelope before returning his eye to the road. "Hey, I'd forgotten about that. It's my last check from the construction company. I got some sort of settlement. Totally forgot about it."

"Xander!" She sounded shocked and somewhat put out. Both of them could recall times when forgetting about an un-cashed check would be like forgetting about breathing. Financial stability still held some novelty for both of them.

"Tell you what, I already did bills this month and got us some passes for Disneyland from one of my contractors. Open that up and we can have some 'mad money' for this week, okay?"

Dawn squealed in what she knew was a far too girlish way, then bounced eagerly a couple times in a way that was decidedly not so girlish any more. Her time at prep school had been good to Dawn, and she knew it, not that Xander could see while he was driving.

She stopped for a moment, recalling her Xander-centric fantasies of years ago, and amused that she still worried about him noticing her 'that way' after this time. He was… Xander. The one person in her life who never ran off, never stopped caring, never took everyone else's side.

She tore open the envelope suddenly, heading off that unexpectedly serious vein of thought. Thinking, not good. School over, playing begun. No thinking.


	2. Parts 4 to 6

IV.

Xander watched carefully as a gigantic SUV heaved out of his blind spot and began to pass them. He'd forgotten how much he hated driving the freeways, especially with some one. He would want to look at her but he had to stay focused on the road. He realized that she had been quiet for too long, and risked a glance at her. He looked quickly at the road, at all his mirrors, trying to build a picture of the space around him, and then risked a longer look at Dawn.

"Hey, what's wrong?" She was expressionlessly looking at the check, something akin to Willow's famous Resolve Face, but more empty. "Not enough for snow cones at the park? It's okay, I have a little put away for the week. I'd forgotten that check was even in there."

"Xander," her voice was almost eerily calm, "how long were you a manager at that company?"

"Manager? Dawnie, we'd talked about me moving up, but nothing ever happened. I got hurt, then, later, there wasn't any company to go back to. What's wrong, you're scaring me."

She read, quietly.

"It says, 'Mr. Harris, as one of three claimants for the distribution of the employee fund, you are entitled to a lump sum payment as detailed below. We have taken the liberty of enclosing, in addition, your cash disbursal from Sunnydale Ltd. Life, Insurers, for the injury you suffered resulting in your vision impairment, plus all interest accrued on these balances while we awaited your claim of these funds, detail in section 3 below. In addition to this lump sum payment, your disability payments for the time prior to July of this year have been added, along with reimbursement of your medical expenses minus deductibles… see section 4…' and on and on. There's four pages of this stuff, then the last page is a check."

"Wow. I knew I had coverage and everything, I just figured that getting out alive was good enough, and Anya had always…" He stopped a moment, then squared his shoulders and continued, "she had always done that stuff, and I just left it when we split up. After she died, I didn't want to go into it. So, you're telling me we can buy you some new clothes at the mall, stuff like that?"

He grinned, the first big Xander Harris special grin she's seen in a long time, longer than she'd been away. "Maybe dinner somewhere nice, this Italian place I know makes great chicken. You deserve something nice."

She slowly shook her head, and then realized he could not see the gesture.

"Xander, you can buy anything you want at that restaurant tonight. And tomorrow night. And all weekend. Then Monday you can probably cut out the middle man and just buy the restaurant."

"Wha? With the I say again 'wha?'" He pulled over to the side of the road, stopped, put on the brake, and turned to her.

"I'm sorry, that wasn't very clear. WHA?" He was pale, and his hands showed white scars where they gripped the wheel.

She didn't trust herself to speak. She just held up the last page, showing him the check.

"Dawn."

"Yes, Xander?"

"I can't take this money. What would I do with it?"

"Anything you want. Buy whatever you need, whatever you want…"

"I have everything I need."

"Just remember, I loved you before you were rich." It was a joke, and he grinned at her grin. Still, as soon as the words left her mouth, they sounded strange. Better not talk like that, might give the wrong impression.

V.

They drove in silence to his apartment. Then they promptly drove back out, depositing his check in the bank's night box. He said it made him nervous to carry it. They drove back the apartment. Then back out again, to get dinner at the nice and rather cheap Italian place he knew that had great chicken.

It was a subdued evening. If only his old friends could see him. Xander, the Quiet Man. Still, he was comforted by having Dawn there, and she was unsure of what to say, so she filled the gaps with idle chitchat about school, about her classes, and the Nice Boys Who Had Not Worked Out. Xander made the right 'oohs' and 'ahhs' and 'mmm-hmmms' but she could tell he was a million miles away. He let her drive home, which she still enjoyed as something of a novelty.

When they got back to the apartment, Dawn did not unbuckle her seatbelt. She sat, facing straight ahead, and said quietly, "Xander?"

He paused, already opening his door. "Yeah?"

"I have to go to the store. I never did hear from the airline about my bag."

"Oh, I totally forgot. Look, I can loan you a toothbrush, and I'm sure I have something from the oversized manly collection for you to sleep in. Tomorrow we can get everything else sorted out. Is that okay?" He started to climb out, assuming assent.

"Xander?" Her voice had a catch in it that brought him back to his seat in a hurry.

"Dawnie, what's wrong?" He searched her profile, wishing she'd face him. One surprising effect of his reduced depth perception was that profiles were very dramatic and thus hard to read.

"I need some things from the store that can't wait." She turned suddenly and he saw plainly how tough this was for her. "You know… girl… things…"

He barely caught himself from laughing. Poor Dawnie, always a little girl at the worst moments… he knew how embarrassed she was to talk about this, like this, in front of him.

"Dawn, who is my best friend ever, present company excepted of course?"

"Willow? Willow and Buffy."

"Mmm hmmm. And, I lived in a house with you, and Buffy, and Willow, and a dozen odd Slayers in Training, for months. I am distressingly familiar with 'girl things.'" He tried to sound reassuring. Instead she began to quiver her lip in a way that alarmed him.

"It's just, I don't have anything with me, and I expected to have my bag… and I spent all my money on…" She caught herself, and continued, "well I don't have any money left tonight and I'd prefer we do not keep talking about this so I do not have to move away to a temple in Tibet where no one speaks. Okay?"

"There's a pharmacy on Baker, we passed it about three blocks back. You know where?" She nodded. He reached into his billfold. "Here, this was for Disney, we can make it up out of that insane mad money check tomorrow. Get anything you need. I'm going up with the spare key. You use my keys and let yourself in when you get back. Okay?"

She took the bills without looking at them and sniffled a bit, facing ahead again. "I'm so sorry. Maybe I should have gone to London, instead of coming here and getting all drippy."

"Hey, hey!" he took her chin in his hand and turned her again to face him. "It's been a long and very strange evening. I obviously have a lot of thinking to do. I can't imagine doing it without you here. Go get whatever you need, and come home, okay?"

"Okay."

"See you." Without really thinking about it, he leaned forward and gave her a hug. She held back for a moment, and then crushed him with a hug that would have made her Slayer-strong sister proud.

"You're such a good guy, Xan. I didn't mean what I said- I'm glad I came."

"And with the breathing…" he muttered.

"Oh Goddess, sorry!" She let go, blushing. He noticed she looked cute when she blushed, because it went to where her collarbones peeked out of her top. And now he was staring at her chest, so feeling like a dirty old man, he blushed too.

"See you upstairs," he said with feigned casualness and hightailed it to his apartment. She got control of herself a bit and headed for the pharmacy.

When she got back, she found him draped across the couch, surrounded by bills and bank statements and some kind of blueprints. He was snoring softly and his eye patch was a little askew. She knew how much anyone seeing his ruined eye bothered him, so she ever so gently slid the patch back in place. Satisfied, she threw an afghan over him and went to his bedroom.

His bed had clean sheets and was turned down, with a bunch of daisies in a purple ribbon on the pillow with a note that said, "Welcome Home, Graduate!" on it. The "Graduate" had an asterisk marked in, and at the bottom he had written, "Well, Earned her Diploma then Skipped Telling Anyone till it was TOO LATE FOR PRESENTS Person!" Inside the card were two passes to Disneyland and a note: "D- for a magical vacation -X."

She took care of this and that in the small bathroom, then put on a large white t-shirt that had been laid out on the bed. As she fell asleep, she realized that it smelled like him. It was a comforting smell.

VI.

October 9.

Xander woke to the smell of coffee and the sound of quiet conversation coming from his bathroom. That was unusual, on both counts. Also, he was fully dressed and had managed to get bed hair and sweaty neck from sleeping on his couch.

"Kasey, look… Kasey? …That's not fair."

He recognized Dawn's voice, but she was obviously trying not to be heard. He checked his eye patch, closed his eye and tried unsuccessfully not to listen.

"I've said I'm sorry. No, I don't think you are listening to me. No. No, you've never really…" She paused for a long while, and then continued more evenly, "Can we just not do this now? Fine. No. Fine. I'm hanging up now." She was crying, or near it. "No. No. I'm hanging up now. I'm hanging… yeah. Good bye."

When the bathroom door opened Xander lay, feigning sleep.

"I'm sorry. I know you're up. I'm…." She gestured vaguely back over her shoulder with the phone towards the bathroom. "I'm sorry," she repeated. She flopped on the end of the couch, sliding under his feet so they lay in her lap as he stretched the kinks out of his neck.

"Anything you want to talk about, Dawnmeister?" He pulled his feet off her lap and sat up, rolling his shoulders with cracks and pops as he tried to smooth his hair down.

"No. Yes." She smiled and shot him a quick look. "Yes, but not now?"

"Ah, that place. I too have resided in Yesbutnotnowville. I think it's near Whoville, but I may be mistaken." He sniffed. "And elves snuck in today and made coffee."

She rose and got him a cup as he started absentmindedly tidying up the paper storm surrounding the couch and coffee table.

"Thanks." He took a sip. Black, sweet. Perfect. For some reason he remembered an old Taster's Choice commercial with some dashing coffee drinking guy that was all sophisticated and flirting. He wished he could say something clever from that, but it was too early even for his encyclopedic memory of pop culture to dredge that one up. She'd probably never seen it anyway.

"So, the House of the Mouse today?"

She still seemed a little melancholy.

"Well," she said, "I already called the airline. Still no baggage, luggage or otherage. I can't exactly wear this out, can I?" She gave the hem of her nightshirt a little pop and he realized with a start that she was wearing his old white t-shirt.

He's seen her wear less, over the years, even a bikini that had been rather impressive one summer. Still, he'd been living pretty much alone for over a year, and was not prepared for the miles and miles of thigh that flashed his way when she did that. He looked around, anywhere but at her legs.

"Oh, hey. We can find something for you to wear. Go hit some stores. Don't worry about money, I'll take care of you." He reached out to put his hand comfortingly on her knee, but thought the better of it. This left his hand wavering around awkwardly in front of her for a long moment while his brain shifted gears.

She stared at his hand like it was a cobra in her cornflakes. She opened her mouth but seemed powerless to speak as her eyes tracked his hand around, back and forth. Finally he pulled his hand back and she forced herself to speak.

"So, um. Uh, you actually decided to use some of that money? From yesterday? Good for you, you deserve it."

"'That money…?' Oh. Oh! THAT money. Actually I'd forgotten." He laughed softly. "Not used to having it there. I guess I'm just used to promising to take care of you… Dawn?"

She'd clouded over like a seaside town with a sudden wind change.

"I'm not a little girl any more, Xander Harris. I'm not little Dawnie who needs a supernatural army living in her living room to protect her, thank you for noticing. I haven't been that girl for years, and I wish you would stop treating me like I was." She huffed up off the couch and went into the bedroom before he could say anything.

"The hell…?" he wondered out loud.


	3. Parts 7 to 9

VII.

"The hell…?" she breathed to herself as she lay on his bed, holding back tears. Hard to announce how grown up you are then run to your bed and cry, but she was nearing it fast. There had just been too much, and to get this from the one man she really respected, the one who always cared for her.

She took a deep breath. She opened her eyes, and saw Xander's card and the tickets sitting next to the bed. This wasn't some jerk of a Yalie treating her like a baby because he was a frosh and she wasn't yet. This was Xander. He deserved the benefit of the doubt, after everything he had done, and was doing, for her. She pulled her legs under her, stretching like a cat. Time to make with the sorry.

"Xander?" she called as she stretched and started to get up.

He had been about to knock on the door to talk to her, his hand raised to rap lightly. She had not closed the door completely. When she called his name, he pushed a little harder than he'd intended and the door swung open.

There, peeking out from under the hem of his old Haynes Beefy T, was a perfect ass, square in the middle of his bed. She was stretching and getting up. Even as he saw her, he wildly spun around to look any elsewhere, making Gollum Gollum noises in his throat like he was auditioning for Peter Jackson.

"Whoops!" she grabbed at the back of her shirt as she bolted upright and spun to face him. This of course had the effect of pulling the shirt down in the back, and lifting the front just as she faced him. Luckily he was looking away… to the bathroom mirror, which angled just enough so she flashed him squarely via the mirror as he turned his back to her.

"Glagg umm Mrorft," he said clearly, throwing his hands up and putting his eye down looking for a safe place to look. She pulled hastily at the front of her shirt. It pulled down plenty far to cover her. And far enough to expose a generous slice of cleavage and rub over her nipples, which decided to join the fun by popping up like those meat thermometers that come in the turkeys at the grocery store. "Ding! Turkey's done!" they shouted to her in her head.

It simply could not get any worse, and she collapsed in a blushing heap onto the edge of the bed, arms crossed over her chest, chin tucked down and hair falling forward to cover her face like Cousin Itt.

It got worse.

Xander, having missed the unscheduled Twin Peaks marathon behind him by virtue of shutting his eye and holding his hands up as he rushed towards the safety of the bathroom, managed to kick over the trash can with a thunk as he dragged the door closed while shouting "Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!" like a deranged Milton Bradley pitchman.

Out came tissues, a plastic bag from the pharmacy, an empty can of shave gel… and one very obviously used EPT that had been carefully wrapped in the pharmacy bag.

He stopped, his shouts died in his throat. There was an Early Pregnancy Test kit in his trash, and a blushing, crying half naked teenager in his bed. He was out of his parent's basement, single, and suddenly very nearly rich.

"May I have the Hellmouth back, please?" he muttered as he slowly kneeled to look at the white plastic test kit. He felt vertigo, like he had not felt since he first lost his eye.

"Dawn?" he called softly. No answer.

Carefully he opened the door and saw her softly weeping, sitting on the edge of his bed. If he was reading that thing right, she had reason to weep, especially with the reception he was giving her. Feeling like a complete cad, he tossed the EPT back onto the counter behind him as he moved to kneel in front of her.

She sniffled loudly and took in a ragged breath, but it came back out choked into soft sobs. She didn't flinch when he put his hands on her shoulders and touched his forehead to hers.

"Dawn Summers, I love you. I worry about you and look out for you because I love you and care about you. I always will, and I always have. Not because of whose sister you are, or because how I wanted your mom to trust me, or to get your sister's approval."

"I looked out for you before an evil bitch goddess wanted to kill you to unmake the world, and I've never cared that you were the Key. I love you because you've always been worth loving and no matter what happens, I'm not going to judge you or yell at you or tell you what's best. I'm here for you."

She looked up, the hair parting to reveal those amazing eyes. She looked shocked, shaken and amazed.

"Do you? Do you really love me? For me?" Looking at his face, she finally understood what Giles had meant when he had called Xander the Heart of the Scooby gang. There was Love, capital L. It was basic, axiomatic. Danny is short. Joss can't dance. Xander is Love. It made her toes curl and grip the carpet.

"Of course I love you. Okay?"

"Well, there's so much going on… it's been so awful…"

"Forget it," he interrupted her. "You're here with me now, and you're going to be okay. Everything else can be worked out."

She realized, at that moment, that it was true. As long as she was with Xander, he would love her and she would be okay. Why hadn't she seen it sooner?

She flipped her hair back and it cascaded over his hands on her shoulders. Her mouth, glistening with tears at one corner, opened like she was going to speak. With a glad cry in her throat she slid off the bed into his arms and kissed him hard and firmly on his lips.

VIII.

He kissed her back. His lips parted and she was soft and urgent against him. She trembled in his arms and his hips rocked forward closing the distance between them as they embraced, kneeling next to his bed.

He was kissing Dawn, his thighs pressing against hers, her teeth grating against his and her breasts flattening against his chest. And she was pregnant with another man's child.

"WHOA!" he pushed back, eye open comically wide, and held her at arms' length. "Dawn, what are you doing? The kissing. We. What are we…? And again, the kissing…"

Her eyes opened and she was suddenly wary, hurt. "You love me. And I realized how stupid I've been, looking for someone to love me and trying to make someone fit into my life." She looked at him with glowing eyes and flushed cheeks. "Last night nothing was forced to fit. It was all so perfectly normal. I woke up thinking why can't I find someone who loves me the way you do… and then today you told me. You do love me, you are the one who loves me the way you do. And now we don't have to be alone any more."

She leaned in to kiss him again.

"We have to talk."

"Mmm!" she whimpered. "After, just a minute?" She leaned in again.

"Please, Dawn, trying to avoid total meltdown. No more fuel on the fire?"

"I love it when you all me Dawn. Dawnie is a little girl's name. Dawn is a woman's name… what's wrong?" She looked at him, pulled back and looked again.

"Oh, hell no." Her voice was soft but quick with rising panic. "You love me. But you mean you love me like 'I love puppies, I love sunsets, I love…' Oh, hell no!"

She tried to pull away. Without thinking he pulled her to him, putting his chin on her shoulder so he could hold her close without having to look into those eyes.

He thought about life. Cordelia. Anya. That wonderful-awful time with Faith. Willow, even. What they all had in common, they didn't need him as much as he needed them. He had loved, and been loved, but never had someone needed so completely to take all the love he had to give as this girl, this young woman, in his arms. His heart, always on his sleeve, had nevertheless been shackled, and here was the Key, if only he would reach out for it. And she loved him too. He could feel it like he could have felt the sun on his face. He felt like an idiot, but a damned lucky idiot.

"I grew up in Sunnydale. We don't stop to admire sunsets, Sunnydalers. Too many things going the wrong kind of bump in the night to welcome a sunset." He pulled back and looked her in the eye. Corny as it was, he could not resist, and to his eternal credit, with absolutely straight face, he told her, "But for myself? I've always loved the dawn…"

She stared, amazed and outraged at the total LINEiness of the line. But, as ever in her life, she could not stay mad. Laughing, she hugged him like she never planned on letting him go.

IX.

After a while, Xander realized he could not spend the whole day holding a half naked woman in his bedroom. Okay, well, he could, but he shouldn't. They really needed to talk. Really talk, in a way that was becoming less and less likely the longer she held him like that.

"Let's find you something to wear and get some breakfast. I think we have a lot to talk about."

"No," she said, squeezing him tighter. "Tell me you love me. Tell me we are going to be very happy, or I am not getting up."

He laughed. "I love you." He did. Amazing. "We are going to be very happy. Oh, or I am not getting up, either." He rose, and lifted her up, set her on her feet. God, she was beautiful. Okay, okay, focus, Xander, focus. "Um, clothes?"

She turned and grabbed her jeans, which had been folded neatly over the back of the chair he used as a bedside table. Without pretense or show, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, she started slipping into them while calling back over her shoulder to him.

"Well, I can just 'go commando' till we get some breakfast, but I need to get to the store. Got shelter, getting food, need clothes, 'kay?"

He turned, trying not to watch as she slipped his t-shirt into her jeans and threw on her little black jacket. He grabbed a faded denim shirt, worn but clean, off the back of the door and shrugged off the one he had slept in. He felt more naked changing shirts in front of Dawn than he had being naked-naked with Anya. A matter of expectations, he guessed. He turned to find Dawn eying him appreciatively up and down. He needed a shave, and his hair was doing a 'look at me, wild hair, first time in captivity' thing.

She thought he was gorgeous. Not pretty. Not chiseled, nor broody and mysterious. But his chest was solid, his tummy flat enough to look good and soft enough for hugging. He had broad shoulders and heavily muscled arms, and strong looking hands that raised some vaguely naughty thoughts in her mind.

"How," he asked her, "do girls do that?"

"Do what?"

"You are dressing out of my shirt drawer and whatever you showed up with yesterday. This is my place and everything I own is in it, just about. But I feel like a doggie bag after the doggie tore into it, and you look like you stepped off the cover of Cosmo. It's not natural."

She giggled and did a little half-turn thing he'd seen women do when they were flattered to be looked at. Then she leaned into him, planted a quick kiss on his cheek and breezed past him into the living room, saying, "You are just adorable. Keep that up."

He followed, taking a second to close the bathroom door on the spilled trash and the EPT in the sink. They would have enough to talk about with recent developments, and he could wait for her to find her own time to tell him her story. One mind-blowing shock at a time, he thought.


	4. Parts 10 to 12

X.

The route to his favorite breakfast place was a short drive north, about five minutes, and the sun streamed in Dawn's window and made her hair shine and blaze. It was a quiet drive, peaceful. How long have I missed peace, he thought. Dawn had one hand lightly touching his arm, friendly, possessive, comforting. Every time he snuck a glance at her, her face was turned to the sun, eyes closed, basking, and looking content.

Radiant, he thought. Isn't that what they always say? Mothers-to-be look radiant? It fit, scary as the thought was. He'd always thought of her hair as brown, but with the sun reflecting and refracting through it, he could see now it was brown, and auburn, and blonde, a hundred shades catching the light and shining to make one beautiful color in the sun.

They pulled up, a little hole in the wall called "Not Warner Brothers' Deli." Apparently, it had been Warner Brother's Deli at some time, and had grudgingly had the "NOT" painted in as the result of some out of court settlement. There was a counter with a few regulars, and some good smells coming from the kitchen. Tending the register was a tall but weathered older man, with iron-grey hair in a ponytail that might not have been cut since the Summer of Love.

"Come on in," Xander said, offering his hand as he held the door.

She slid past and around him and wound up arm in arm moving towards a booth by the end of the counter. Xander nodded to the man at the register, who waved back.

"Hey, Pop, how's things?" Xander called over to him.

Pop ambled over as they slid into the booth, his eyes surveying Dawn even as he clasped Xander on the shoulder. When he spoke, his voice seemed to come from around his shoes and well up inside him, perfectly rounded tones that would have fit James Earl Jones if not for the Yiddish accent.

"And Xander my boy, who is this? You come alone four, five days a week for over a year, and now this little Maideleh?" he wagged his eyebrows and winked at her delighted expression. "Not exactly a zaftig shaineh maidel, but we work with what we have, just need to feed her something. Shalom, dear girl. Welcome."

"Aleichem shalom, Pop. Everything smells wonderfull!"

Xander stared at her like he was waiting for the other snake to drop. Pop just tossed his head back and laughed, then bowed deeply and headed back to the register, tussling Xander's hair on the way.

"Keep this one, son. Mazel!"

Xander found his voice at last. "And you became fluent in Hebrew when?"

Dawn laughed and grabbed his hand over the table. "Yiddish silly. He just said I was a nice pretty girl but I need to eat something. Anyway, Willow was teaching me some Hebrew." She shrugged. "It helped with research, and then at school I found that the same kids who checked out the Hebrew books all talked about everyone in Yiddish. I've never taken well to people talking over my head, so I started picking it up. It's fun! Heck after teaching myself Sumerian it was a breeze."

"Amazing." He'd never really thought about how much Dawn had picked up as Research Girl and Junior Scooby. It had just seemed right and no one had ever talked about it that he could recall.

"And here you loved me for just my kisses, when I am also a poly-lingual genius and all around scholar girl." She laughed and he shook his head again.

XI.

"So Xander, what's the story with Pop?" she continued more discreetly. "And why didn't you tell me there were vampires here? Have you been in trouble?"

Xander quickly looked around, then back to her. He kept his voice low.

"What? No trouble really. How did you…"

"Pop." She nodded towards his slightly. "When he laughed I saw the scars on his neck. We know where those come from. Besides, not a lot of old Jewish hippies have a silver crucifix next to the Magen David around their necks. Something happened, so give."

"Y'all ready to order?" The waitress, whose nametag proclaimed her to be "Anne," cocked an eyebrow and indicated the menus printed on their placemats.

"Oh, erm, yeah," Xander said, a little surprised to see new help in Warner's. She was young, blonde, pretty in a way that might not fade if she kept a decent job and took care of herself. Knowing Pop, she had either run away to LA and was now getting out, or was from LA and was running away from something worse.

"Uh, let me have 2 eggs over medium, a bagel, and some OJ."

"And you Miss?"

"The same… oh, and some of the berry blintzes and cream… and a cup of coffee. Thank you."

"Hungry?"

"I lived on cereal and burnt pancakes for 3 years. It wasn't till I got to the prep that I discovered they actually make other foods at breakfast. Did you know that? I didn't know that. I thought it was some sort of cruel hoax. There's even this thing called brunch, where you get all the breakfast stuff and they have carved turkey. I swear, seen it with my own eyes."

He had to grin at her, but then she did a very credible Resolve Face.

"So now tell me. Pop. Vampires. The sitch?"

"Oh, it wasn't much. I'd been here a month or so, and couldn't get back to sleep one morning early, before sunrise. I didn't sleep much, then." His face was unreadable, and he was staring into the middle distance over her shoulder as he spoke. "I guess that's why I got back into the carpentry, some construction. Easier to fall asleep if your body is as tired as your mind."

She squeezed his hand and it brought him back. He hadn't realized they were still holding hands. If they were, what? Dating? Whatever it was, he better start noticing things like that, he thought, or he might wind up in trouble.

"So, I was walking, not really seeing anything, just in my own head, walking. A fyarl demon could have bit me on the ass and I doubt I'd have seen it. Anyway, Pop over there was just unlocking the place and he surprised some skank Vampirella skulking in his doorway. I guess she'd just been turned and was running from the daylight coming. With the shutters down this place does a great impression of an abandoned building."

"Pop starts shouting, she's shouting and clawing at him. More like a wet angry cat than a vamp, but he's a total pacifist, no training whatsoever, couldn't get her pried off his neck. I stood there with them right in front of me. And then I guess I lost my temper."

"What happened?"

"I grabbed her, just lifted her off him and held her over my head by her collar and her belt. And I got mad, and started shaking her. 'This isn't Sunnydale. It's not LA. This is a decent little place and I'm tired of demons like YOU making it impossible for me to get any SLEEP!' Lots of stuff like that. I was lucky she wasn't very experienced or with the state I was in she would have had me right there, and Pop too."

"Finally, she managed to get a kick in on my shoulder and almost broke free. So I threw her in the street. That was it."

"That was it? She ran off?"

"No. I sort of expected her to, but while I'd been yelling at her, the sun had come up."

"Ah.

"Yeah. Well, Pop and I had a long talk over some really good bagels and coffee. We've been pretty tight ever since. He doesn't have any family, and I have never had much in the way of a father figure, unless you count Uncle Rory which I try never to do."

"Xander, the Vampire Slayer." She was looking at him with an odd expression he could not classify.

"Very funny."

"No, think about it. One on one, without a weapon, you saved a man from a vampire. How many others have you dusted over the years? Dozens? Hundreds? Plus a piece of who knows how many demons, and one god I could name if I didn't refuse to do so. As far as non-magical non-slayer non-demony mortal humans go, you may be the most deadly-to-vampire human who ever lived."

The idea was so strange he shied away from it. It couldn't be true. Besides there were the Watchers, and the Initiative and who knows what all else out there going bump in the night. Still, it did make him consider rethinking the way he viewed some of his accomplishments from the last eight years or so. Maybe it bore thinking about.

XII.

"Here y'all are. Eggs, bagel. Blintzes. Coffee."

"Thanks," they said together.

"Sure folks, let us know if you need anything okay?"

Dawn looked at her food, and let go of his hand to begin sugaring her coffee.

Might as well start with the talking, Xander thought, looking at her full mug of dark java.

"You sure you should be having that, Dawn? I mean, considering…?"

"What, it's going to stunt my growth?" She laughed and waved vaguely at her 5'8" frame. The table blocked most of her body though, so it mostly appeared as a gesture to her fairly impressive figure.

"I'm guessing it's too late for that," she continued. When Xander nearly choked fighting off a spit-take of his OJ, she looked down to see where he was looking. Well, he was looking where she had wound up pointing, pretty much at her bust. She flushed red.

"I meant," she went on quickly, waving her hand up towards the top of her head frantically, "I meant tall. You know, 'cause I am already tall. About half a foot taller than Buffy and you can bet that bothers her more than she ever admits. Taller than just about everyone, except you and maybe Giles. Spike was tall. Is tall. Again. If he's alive... or not dead. Whatever. So, I'm tall, so too late for growth stunting."

Xander smiled, and said bemusedly, "Your mom was tall."

Dawn, who had just picked up her fork, looking for something to do with her hands, put it down again on her plate with a clatter.

Xander felt himself flushing. Way to go, idiot, he thought.

"Dawn honey I didn't mean to…"

"No, no, it's okay."

"I just thought of that, and of course I said it. Xander has filters now between his brain and mouth, honest. Been working on that a lot."

She put her hand on his cheek and pursed her lips slightly, considering.

"It's fine Xander. I think about her a lot. But to me, she's still this huge person a million miles tall who smells like art supplies and baking. It surprised me to think that when you were my age, she was still alive. You were basically an adult, or at least not a kid any more, and you knew her."

"I'm sorry if it upsets you, Dawn. I don't know what to say…"

"Oh, Xander, I think it's wonderful. I envy you, and when you said I was tall like her, I realized that was the first time anyone has ever told me I was like my mom. I didn't think I'd ever have that, and it snuck up on me."

"Hey now. No crying. Crying in your beer is bad. Crying over spilled milk is wrong yet surprisingly satisfying, or so I have been told. But crying on your blintzes? I'm not sure what the penalty is for that under California law but I imagine it's severe."

She just looked at him for a long time. She picked up her fork, took a small bite and chewed it slowly, then swallowed.

"To quote the Prophet: 'Awww Steeempy, You're one of thee good ones, maaaan.'" Her eyes were shining and there was a tiny spot of berry on her upper lip.

Cartoon network. Adult swim. He snorted, picked up his fork, and started to eat. He had totally forgotten that they had Serious Issues to have a Real Talk about. And that was okay.


	5. Parts 13 to 15

XIII.

After breakfast, and a promise to Pop to return soon, they headed over to the mall in North Haverbrook. As they pulled into the parking lot, Dawn looked at the mall. It looked a lot like the Pines Mall they had passed on the way out of Lago Vista.

"So, why this mall? Better prices?"

"Not really. Same stores. Same selection. But they have a better food court here."

She nodded sagely. Trust Xander to know every edible thing on a stick vendor in a five-town radius.

"Besides," he said, gesturing over his shoulder, "they've got the monorail here."

She looked at the weathered track running across one side of the mall parking lot. It looked like the tracks went right up to the upper level of the mall.

"That's cool. Reminds me, I need something short sleeved for Disney."

They hit the stores. Xander had shopped with Willow. He hadn't seen Buffy shop much, but he'd heard the stories, legends really. All paled before the awesome power that was Dawn.

It wasn't that she spent a lot of money, though things started adding up after the first hour or so. It was the way she shopped. She didn't stop in every store, but every store she did stop in had something she wanted, at a reasonable price, in her size. One salesperson tried to sell her last year's shoes and was left, a trembling wreck, after Dawn loudly explained to Xander (and everyone within earshot) what a tragedy it was for a young woman who was accidentally offered last year's styles at this year's prices. It's just too bad they don't have the crème brulé colored Blahniks that would have gone so well with the butter-cream mini in the window across the way… Oh, they did have some, in the back, maybe?

Before they left, Dawn had her shoes (and paid cost, not retail), and a girl had been across the way and fetched that miniskirt, in her size. About four other girls had bought the same shoes, and there was definite buzz in the little shop. The manager figured she'd made up the discount in additional sales before Dawn even left the store.

Every time she slowed down and said, "Maybe next time for this," or "I can't really justify that," Xander would step up.

"That looks great on you, you should have it."

"If you need a jacket, get a jacket. If you like that one and it's a good buy, just get it."

He still had not decided for sure what he was going to do with the ridiculous sum of money he had been given by the insurance company, but he felt a lot better spending some of it on Dawn than on himself. She'd never really had much, and her nicest things had always been hand me downs from her sister. By the time they stopped for lunch at the Mongolian grill by the monorail station, he had at least two shopping bags under each arm and figured he was about 1600 lighter. He felt better than he had in years.

"Xander, there's something I wanted to talk to you about, but I wasn't really sure how to bring it up." She was chasing a lonely peapod around her plate with a chopstick and suddenly had forgotten how to look him in the eye.

"Alright. First, thanks for telling me whatever it is, but take your time. I doubt I'll be surprised or upset by anything you have to say." In his mind, he saw the EPT lying on his bathroom floor, showing a big blue plus sign to the world. He wanted to know everything, but he knew it was not going to be easy for her to tell him. His world seemed to zoom in a bit, and he felt like they were the only ones in the world. Everything else just went away.

"At school, this last semester, there was a boy." Her voice was small, more childlike than she let herself seem lately. In a way it was comforting, this was a Dawn he knew how to relate to.

"Let me guess. Kasey?"

"Yeah. I forgot you heard, this morning. Kenneth Carl Fox, III, actually. But everyone calls him Kasey. He's a frosh at Yale, his sister Emma was at the prep a year behind me. He came around some times."

"Mmm hmmm," said Xander. This was harder to hear than he thought. He was surprised to find out how jealous he was. He tried desperately not to show it. He didn't want to hurt her, ever.

"He was nice. Funny. Not as funny as you, but who is?" She smiled, and then the smile faded. "We went out, started calling, writing. He was cute, and he obviously liked me. The more we were together the more affectionate he got, sending notes. He even sent flowers to me at the dorm, and all the girls were talking about it for days."

"It was flattering, and I liked him. Then, a few weeks ago, Emma was having a big back to school party, and the ones who had graduated and the seniors were invited by their folks to stay the weekend. There were a couple of dozen of us there, and everything was really fun."

She looked at Xander, thinking about what she wanted to say next. She didn't know why she felt compelled to tell him this, but she had to get it all out. She couldn't start fresh with Xander if this was still rattling around in her head, unsaid.

"The last day, Kasey and I went out on the lake, in his little sailboat. Just the two of us. He told me that he loved me, and that he was glad I was done with school because he wanted to see a lot more of me. He had a bottle of wine, and a picnic basket."

Xander saw where this was going.

"I was nervous. I drank some wine, but I didn't eat anything. Ever drink wine on an empty stomach?"

"Unfortunately." He tried to remember the feeling of crawling into a bottle after he left Anya. If he remembered, he might remember to never do it again. If he forgot, it might be tempting when he was down.

"I don't know what it was that made me uncomfortable. We were," she paused, and looked at him with a 'hurts me more than it hurts you' expression. "We were kissing, and he was telling me he loved me. He called me his Rosy-fingered Dawn and said we'd sail the wine-dark sea together. Maybe that's what got me thinking. I can't sail a boat, about all I know is that the pointy end goes in the front, you know?"

"But he was telling me how much he cared about me, and drinking wine out on the lake alone. I'm not too experienced dealing with men, but life and death? We covered them pretty well growing up in Sunnydale. I told him maybe we should go back."

"He got annoyed. He said he wasn't done kissing me yet. He started really kissing me, and things started moving fast. I think I was a little drunk, but that doesn't excuse what happened." She looked down, took a sip of her diet Coke. "I realized that the boat was rocking and the sail thing, the boom or the mast or whatever, was flapping back and forth above us. He was on top of me, and then he was inside me. He was telling me he loved me and he couldn't live another night without having me."

Xander reached out and took her hands in his, but he didn't say anything. He just wanted to be there for her, and he didn't think showing how mad he was at this punk would go over very well right now.

"There was some piece of boat gear, some doohickey, poking into my shoulder, and I kind of focused on it and realized I was almost naked, and told him to stop. I told him again and he just kept moving on me and telling me he loved me."

"I realized at that moment that he didn't care a damn about me. He didn't care that it hurt, and that I wasn't really ready. We hadn't talked at all about protection. Something was digging in my shoulder and I was scared and wanted to go home. And if he didn't care about any of that, then he didn't care about me. And if you are having sex with someone you don't care about, it's not making love. It's not even friendly sex: it's fucking them. And I've been through too much in my life to let some guy fuck me."

"You go, girlfriend," Xander said softly. She almost smiled at him.

"I told him to stop and he said no. So I grabbed whatever it was that was poking me in the shoulder- turns out it was some sort of little pole thing with a metal hook on the end. I don't even know what it was. Some boaty thing no one needs in real life I guess. So I put the hook against his nose so he was staring cross-eyed at it and I said, 'Get off me and take me home, or I'll hang you from this hook on your stupid little boat and SWIM back, got me?' He was so scared I thought he was going to pee. I was too. I thought I had. Peed, I mean. Then I realized it was something else. I guess men's bodies react to fear in a little bit of a different way…"

"He backed off and told me he was sorry, he was so sorry. We could go back to the house and everything was going to be okay and he was so sorry. I was pulling up my clothes and looking for my panties and trying to get cleaned up and he was just going on and on about how much he loved me and how sorry he was."

"What did you tell him?"

"Nothing. He was getting the sail back up and heading us for shore as fast as the wind would take us. The first time we crossed a wave and the boat dipped, I was sick over the side. Mostly over the side. Okay, a little on his deck shoes and the rest over the side."

"Poor Dawnie." He wanted to say a lot more. This was one of those times when he had to not be the talking guy, the nervous joke-making guy. She wasn't done.

"We got back, and I went to my room and tried to get cleaned up. I was scared, and sad, and I wanted to go home. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized, where is home? That giant sinkhole that used to be Sunnydale? Giles' place in England I've never seen? I don't have a home, Xander. I'm like one of those character's in Lit they make us write about, a woman without country."

"You have a home, Dawn, always. Any time."

"I realized that. After that horrible weekend was over and I got back to school, I remembered what Robin joked about. You know, with Faith after we left Sunnydale and they were going see those friends of his in Anaheim. Remember?"

"Yeah. Robin asked her, 'You've just defeated the First Evil, Slayer. What are you gonna do next?' and she goes 'We're going to Disneyland!' I have to admit, I've wondered what that pair must have looked like on the magic teacups."

"Heh. Disturbing, much. So that night I called you. I asked if you wanted to go to Disneyland. I wanted to go somewhere happy, with someone I trust. It's like the happiest place on earth or something right? And there's never been anyone who looked out for me like you, 'cause you always did it without looking down on me."

"I'm flattered," Xander said. "I'm happy you called me. But I don't understand why you're still talking to this guy. You are best friends with some of the most dangerous people on the planet. He's lucky not to have a stake in his heart, and a bite on his neck. And be turned into a frog. And then forced to eat English food."

She laughed, and her eyes came alive. He wanted this Dawn, not the sad girl. He wanted the smiling Dawn who squeezed his hands and dimpled when she laughed.

"He's not evil, Xander. He's just stupid and charming and has no idea what's right and wrong. I'm finally realizing that most people haven't had the benefit of seeing real good and evil battling it out their whole lives, and they make some awful choices. I thought maybe I was overreacting, so I told him I needed time away. Then yesterday, things were so good being here with you. When I went to sleep in your bed I was happy and safe, and it made me realize, I have a right to be happy."

"Damn straight. Also, you have a right to cable TV and reasonably priced snack foods. Those, um, are a little farther down the Declaration somewhere."

"You're crazy. So, this morning, talking to him, I decided that being happy started with being free from him, but he wouldn't listen. All the time he and I were talking, I'm wondering what it would be like to be here with you, you know, not just for a trip but to be here. I guess it was just daydreaming."

"So what changed?" He didn't believe she was some fickle child, ready to embrace him just because he was here. But he also worried that she had been having sex a month ago with this mouth breather and now was professing her love for Xander.

"This morning. I managed to shock you and totally embarrass you, and myself, with that amazing Benny Hill Show scene in the bedroom. And you didn't worry about how embarrassed you were, or that it was a silver-medal-caliber performance in the 100-meter Awkward Moment Freestyle."

"You worried about me. You told me you loved me and that you would always be there for me. I love you too, always have really. A long time ago I told myself that I was being silly, that it was a crush. It was, I'm sure, back then."

"But Xander, what came to me this morning when you were holding me and telling me everything was going to be okay, that you wouldn't judge me, that you wouldn't leave me. What came to me was that I've loved you for years, but I let that old 'it's just a crush' thinking keep me from really looking at my feelings for you."

She reached up and touched his hair softly, where it was getting white streaks at his temples. "This hair, my gosh. When did it start to turn? It makes you look exotic, and mysterious, and with the eye patch… Well, you're just dishy, I'm sorry. How's a girl supposed to resist?"

He laughed, and looked around as a monorail whooshed softly past the concourse below. They were still in a very public place, but they had wrapped a sort of cloak of seriousness around them while they had been talking. He had forgotten they were in the middle of the food court.

"What do you say we take today off before we go to Disney?" He was touching his watch with his fingertips. He'd always worn his watch on his left wrist. After losing his left eye, he had gotten tired of holding his arm across his body or craning his neck to read the time. Wearing his watch on the right felt weird, and he was always hitting it on things. One day after he and Pop and been talking about it, Pop had presented him with a Braille watch. It took about a week to get used to but now he wore it all the time.

"Do you not feel like going…?" She sounded understanding but a little let down.

"No, I feel like going more than ever. I want to show my best girl a good time." He winked. "Uh. Um, that was a wink. I always forget that you can't tell when I'm winking and when I'm just blinking." He grimaced a bit.

"Silly, silly man. Of course I can tell. Your bushy brows dance around when you wink at me." She leaned across the table and kissed the end of his nose. "I can always tell. And I like it!" She giggled.

"Well okay then. I just figured, let's get some rest, let you unpack or whatever, you know, your stuff." He gestured to all the bags and packages around them. "Then we can go tomorrow and get a full day of magical goodness. Well, you know, Disney magic not magic magic."

She pondered all the packages, her lips pursed fetchingly. "Sounds like a plan. I have to make one more stop, so do you want to get the car and pull around to that exit down there? I mean, would you mind?"

"Sure, sure. Here, take the card. If they give you any grief about using it, have them call me on the cell. Meet you a few minutes…?"

"That'd be great. Now, no fair looking where I'm going, promise?"

"Sure, Dawn. See you soon." He leaned over and kissed her cheek. It was the first time he had just kissed her, and it felt shockingly warm and good to him. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck all stood up as he quickly gathered the shopping up to take to the car.

"Yummy," she purred, tucking the card in her pocket. "See ya soon." She took off down one hallway they had not hit on the whirlwind tour earlier.

XIV.

As he walked to the car, Xander passed the concierge desk, which is what they call Information if they want to attract a certain type of customer at a mall. He saw the map, and guiltily took a peek at what stores were near where Dawn had gone.

"Sharper Image. Probably not. House of Ties? Doubt it but possibly. Does she know I almost never wear a tie any more? I mean, if it's a surprise for me… Escada, okay, whatever that is. Pea in the Pod. Maternity?" He flushed and felt cold all over at the same time. Must remain calm. Calm… calm….

"Maybe I'll just go get the car," he muttered and headed for the parking lot.

In the Escada store, Dawn looked at the Intimates section, a very upscale section of robes, peignoirs, and some kinds of lingerie she could not actually pronounce. She was a little baffled, but determined.

An older saleswoman came up to her, seeing her puzzled looks. Her name was Kay, and she was beautifully but modestly dressed in a black pants suit and a gold scarf at her throat. She was about fifty, but looked younger, with laugh lines at her eyes but flawless skin on her cheeks and a subtle hint of lavender in her perfume.

"Hello." Her voice was warm and not at all snooty like some women in these sorts of places. "What can I help you find, Miss?"

Dawn decided to stick to the truth and not try to play the sophisticate. She liked the woman's voice, and her eyes didn't seem to be counting the money in Dawn's pocket with her first glance.

"I want to get something nice. They've lost my luggage and I need some underwear, so I thought maybe I'd get something… you know… nice?"

"Okay dear, we can help. I take it there is perhaps someone you want to look nice for?" Dawn nodded. "I see. Well, for that we don't need 'underwear' dear," she said conspiratorially. "We need 'lingerie.' What sorts of things have you been looking at?"

"I'm not sure where to start. Other than a few thongs and my one red bra I got from Target, I've got a very pastel-cotton-panty wardrobe."

"Oh, darling," Kay laughed. "I'm sure we can improve on that. So no luggage, you need everything? Or at least some basics till you get everything sorted out?"

"Yes, please!" Dawn felt more relieved than she could say. She could chant in Aramaic, and could tell fresh wolvesbane from fresh dragonwort. But match a slip to a stocking set? Please. "But I'm sort of in a rush. He's pulling the car around soon and I need something I can wear tonight too."

"Dear, you do live dangerously. Okay, you'll need a comfortable bra, and something off the shoulders, one buff and one black in each… dresses or skirts? Skirts and jeans? Alright. But you really ought to look into wearing dresses dear, with that lovely figure. Another day, we'll talk."

All the while she was picking things off the racks: never the cheapest, never the most expensive. Rarely she would hesitate over a choice, but not once faltered once she had the item in her hands. In a few minutes, there was a good selection of very nice lingerie, suitable for just about any outfit Dawn had purchased that day.

"Now, for the bedroom…?" Kay paused, not looking at Dawn. It took Dawn a moment to realize what was being asked of her. She had been floating along, amazed by Kay's obvious expertise. They were standing in front of a rack of robes and wraps. Many had floral flourishes or little bows here and there.

"Oh. Er, yes. Do you have anything... you know, that will make me look more… I don't want to look like a little girl." Sometimes it's hard to say what you think because you are not sure what it is that you think.

"You want him to admire you, to be impressed?"

"Oh, yes, but he has really good taste. I mean he dresses plainly these days, but all his things are nice, none of those awful print things he used to wear. He, you could say, I guess, you could say he has a good eye." She smiled at the pun, wondering when she could spring it on him for maximum damage.

Kay looked Dawn up and down, and held a nightdress up in front of her. It was green, pale grass green with an emerald trim around the collar. Modest sleeves but a bit of a plunge in the neckline, gathered under the bust, not at the waist. With her blue eyes, with flecks of green in them, it was perfect.

"I know he has a good eye, dear." Kay got a confused look from Dawn. "I mean, just look at you."

With a hug and an encouraging pat on the shoulder, Kay sent Dawn out with her purchases, using the plain mall shopping bags so as to help surprise the young man. "Good luck, Mr. Harris," she thought, looking at the name off the charge slip. Some days she enjoyed her job more than most.

XV.

When Dawn got out to the parking lot, Xander was leaning on the fender of his car at the curb, legs crossed, arms crossed over his chest. A skater punk girl, almost sexless in her baggies and her Doc Martin's, was trying not to be noticed eyeing him. She was maybe fifteen or so. When she saw Xander spring up and open the back door for Dawn to drop in her bags, the skater girl snorted and grabbed her board, rolling off past the "No Biking, No Blading, No Boarding" sign.

Ha, thought Dawn. That's right. Mine. Back off, bitch. She grinned, and grinned again when Xander tossed her the keys.

"Do you mind driving home?"

"As if! Get in, come on, belt up, and let's go go go!" She laughed as he saluted crisply and hurried into the car.

As she pulled out, she put her hand for a moment on his arm. He didn't jump, even though she knew she was on his blind side.

They pulled out and headed back down the freeway for a few exits to Lago Vista. She was bubbling happy and grinning. He seemed a little distracted, giving her one-word answers when she asked about the best route home.

She patted his arm and concentrated on getting them home. When they arrived, it took two trips but they got everything in, and Xander put everything on the bed. Then he took one side of his closet and scrunched everything back on the rod, giving her a little space to hang her things.

He went into the bathroom while she unpacked, and when he came out he went straight to the couch and sat quietly.

"Penny?" She asked, coming to kneel in front of him on the floor by the couch.

"Sorry?" He shook his head a tiny bit and looked at her.

"For your thoughts. Are you okay?"

"Sure. Yes. Just a lot going on," he tapped his head with his knuckles, "up here. Trying to assimilate a bit, I suppose."

"Oh, okay. Can I help?"

"I think I'd just like to sit for a while. Is that okay?"

"Of course it is. It's your place. Mind if I take a shower and change?" She was feeling a bit whiff, and she was worried about getting stress stink.

"Anything you need, there's towels in the cabinet next to the sink. And I got some shower soapy stuff for you, couple of different kinds by the tub. I didn't know if you still liked the same ones."

"Xander," she ran her hands up his thighs and kissed his cheek as she stood, "most guys don't even realize that there are different kinds, much less notice if their girl has a favorite. You are so completely the best boyfriend ever." She was trying out the word 'boyfriend' to see if he'd object. He didn't, at least not out loud. That was pretty cool.

"See ya in a bit. Call me if you're all assimilated." She paused in the doorway. "But you know, not in a Star Trek, Borg kind of way, 'cause that would just be weird."

She closed the door and started getting ready for a shower, noting with delight that her favorite shampoo and body soap, along with a few other choices, were sitting next to the tub in a little basket she had overlooked before. What a sweetie.


	6. Parts 16 to 18

XVI.

Xander sat. He glanced at the door to make sure she was busy in there, then lifted his eye patch and rubbed gently around the socket. They had told him he could get a glass eye fitted, there was no physical damage preventing it, but he was never able to stomach putting something cold and hard into his head, on purpose, like that. It gave him the wiggins so much he had finally decided to stick with the patch. He settled it back into place.

He felt his watch. It was almost 3 o'clock. About twenty-four hours earlier, he had picked up his friend Dawn at the airport for a visit. Twenty-six hours ago he had been shopping for a few things to make her feel at home, wondering how long she would stay, wondering if like Willow and Buffy she would be heading out soon for whatever life she was making for herself.

Now she was singing in his shower, something classic and torchy that he remembered Tara McClay singing. It had been one of those days Willow had sat at the breakfast table looking totally smug and thinking no one knew why she was smiling. A lot had happened since those days, maybe too much. He sat for some time, just letting it all wash over him.

Dawn's cell, sitting on the coffee table, started to ring. She was still singing, and Xander decided he'd check the caller ID before he got her out to answer it. It was a number he knew, the office at her school. Maybe she forgot something, or maybe they'd found her bag.

He punched the button. "Hello?"

"Who is this?" A young man's voice, suspicious.

"Xander Harris, were you trying to reach Dawn Summers?"

"She's there? Put her on please." This was a very obvious 'polite talking to a grownup' voice. Xander remembered when he'd had that voice for phoning his friends' parents.

"She's sort of indisposed, is it something I can help you with? Is this about her suitcase?"

"Suitcase? Who are you? Put Dawn on the phone." Something in the boy's tone indicated he was not interested in dealing with a flunky. Polite voice dropped so fast it was like he was talking to a different person.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I can't do that… Kasey?" Xander's hands were cradling the little phone, as he was trying to resist doing great violence to it.

"This is Kenneth Carl Fox the Third, the person who is going to make your life very unpleasant if you do not stop these games and call Dawn to the phone. I demand you let me speak to Dawnie."

"Listen, Kenneth Carl Fox the Turd, this is Alexander Harris, the man who is going to make your life very short if you do not stop calling Miss Summers. If she wants to talk to you, she will call you. If you call her again, I will be forced to track you down with a sander and a caulking gun. First I'll sand off any bits that stick out regardless of how attached you may be to them, and then I'll fill in any places that stick in, until you are literally one very smooth character? Do I make myself clear?"

There was silence. Xander was standing, shaking, trying not to grind his teeth. He calmed himself and said very evenly, "Do I make - myself - clear?"

"Yessir." Kasey sounded about twelve years old.

"And another thing. Don't call her Dawnie. If you speak to her you will call her Miss Summers. If she wants you to call her anything else she will let you know. Understood?"

"Yessir!" came the immediate reply.

"Good day, sir." Xander snapped the phone closed and glared at it. He missed the old phones that you could slam down when you were finished telling someone off.

"My hero."

He spun. Dawn, wrapped in a towel, another over her neck, was dripping water from her long hair onto the carpet. Her skin was pink and beaded with water, her lips unglossed. She was looking at him with utter seriousness.

"I, um… I thought it was about your bag… I… I'm sorry." He wished she would stop looking at him like that. It was beginning to freak him out.

"Seriously, thank you." She crossed to him and threw her arms around him. Her wet hair spread across his shirt and her cool little mouth kissed his jaw as she hugged him. "I heard it all. I was dreading talking to him again, and then you rescued me." She kissed him again, on his neck.

"Thank you."

"Dawn, it's okay. He just made me so mad, like he could order you around. What he did to you…" He stopped talking. She probably did not want to be reminded of him, of what had happened. Of course, they'd have to talk to him eventually. A father has certain rights, or at least the right to prove he is a father and not just a sperm donor with legs.

"You love me?" Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. It was not a question.

"I do." He closed his eyes and held her, just feeling her breathe against him.

"Am I pretty?"

"Are you…? Are you insane? You are the most beautiful woman I've ever known… and that's just on the inside. The outside is pretty nifty too."

She lowered her hands and pinched him hard on the bottom. Wow, he had a really firm ass. It made her wonder, is there a drywall-hanging workout, like tae bo but you get new room dividers when you're done. In Beverly Hills they could probably sell it.

"Hey, hands! Hands!" He sounded almost girly. She loved the way he had no clue how sexy he was. It took him from desirable to adorable. She backed away, hands up.

"Okay, Xander, I surrender. Could you do me a favor please, O Glorious Hero?"

"Um, sure." Her towel was starting to unravel. He willed himself to look away. Really he did. Willing… willing. Still willing, though not actually technically looking away. He cleared his throat. "Uh, a favor?"

"Yeah." She peeled away her towel and tossed it at him as she ducked back into the bedroom. "Take a shower Harris. What, did you sleep in those clothes?"

Laughing, she ducked into the small closet and he heard rustling and rattling as she assembled an outfit in there. He grabbed a pair of boxers and some clean khakis and went to take a shower. His shirt smelled like her hair. He used almost entirely cold water.

XVII.

October 10.

They had spent the evening not discussing anything much. By unspoken agreement, they both shied away from serious topics. There was a lot of music, nothing fancy, just softly playing to cover some of the lulls. Chitchat about school. Xander admitted he thought some times about going back to school.

They had decided not to go out. Xander had made an omelet with a little of this and that from the fridge. She'd called Willow to let her know that things were okay and that she had arrived. Further explanations were spared through the miracle of voicemail.

About 10 o'clock, Xander had offered to let her have first use of the bathroom, but she had declined. He'd changed into a clean t-shirt and a pair of plaid flannel boxers, and then let her have the bathroom to herself. While she did whatever it is beautiful women do in the bathroom for an hour before bedtime, he'd put a sheet and blanket on the sofa and laid down on top of them to wait for her to come out.

A few minutes later, Dawn had called softly, "Xander? How soon do we need to get up tomorrow?" No answer. "Xander?" She came out of the bathroom, her hair brushed and shining, her nails scrubbed clean, her breath sweet. She was wearing the green Escada gown and was even more beautiful than she was nervous.

She saw him lying on the coach. Saw the sheet and blanket. Looked to his queen-sized bed, empty. She'd called softly, "Xand? Do you, um want to… I thought maybe… Oh."

As she came into the living room she had seen he was fast asleep. He looked peaceful, untroubled, with the worry lines smoothing from his face and a faint rumbling snore coming from somewhere down in his chest.

"Well. Craptacular." She'd pouted for a moment, then changed back into a plain nightshirt. She fell asleep in minutes, her green gown neatly folded and tucked away in the closet with her things.

With Disney day upon them, they decided to hit Not Warner Brothers' on the way to the park. Dawn was driving, wearing a smart pair of purple shorts with a deep blue sleeveless top. She had a white sweater tied around her waist and looked like something from a catalog.

Xander, somewhat concerned about looking like a cast member at Disneyland, was wearing blue jeans, much faded. Sturdy work boots, and a Pittsburgh baseball jersey and cap that he'd bought at a memorabilia store once while out shopping with Willow and Kennedy. With the hat pulled low down and a bit to the side, his eye patch was a lot less noticeable.

They made a lightning dash into Pop's and picked up a bag of bagels and some cups of juice. Nothing from a can for Pop's friends, this juice had been alive and on the hoof not two hours before. He wished them a good time and shooed them out so they might beat traffic.

Disneyland was fun. It sounds silly, but after all they had seen, there was something refreshing about a place that was completely artificial, like Washington D.C., but completely safe, like… similes failed. Neither of them could recall ever having felt completely safe.

It was a musical montage of a day. Rides, autographs from Mickey and Minnie (the latter of whom just might have been a Brachen demon. Hard to be sure under those costumes). The twirling teacups ride.

It was early evening, at the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad ride, that things went off track, as it were. Dawn grabbed Xander's hand and pulled him towards the ride, eager to take a spin on the runaway mine train. Xander hung back, reading the standard disclaimers. "Do not ride this ride if you are too fat, too short, have a broken back, are a personal injury attorney, are pregnant with the spawn of a Yalie scumbag…" Yep, there it was.

"Hey Dawn, maybe we should hit the carousel. You know, small-small world? Something like that?"

"Oh come on you big baby, let's saddle up! Come on!" She pulled.

He pulled back. "Hey. We can't ride this, okay?" She was strong for a girl her size and age, but there was way too much Xander for her to drag him along against his will.

She put her hands on her hips. "Xander? What's wrong with you, it's going to be fun. I promise to hold your hand for any scary parts okay?" She was puzzled, and stayed half turned towards the line to the ride.

"Dawn. No." She wasn't going to drop it. He sighed, and then got her by her hips and with a little lift and turn plopped her onto a railing face to face with him so they could talk somewhat less obviously.

"I didn't want to say anything, but if you aren't going to be careful and take care of yourself I will. I can't let you do this."

She looked at him in shock. "Are you mental? Hello? It's a ride Xander. 10 year olds are riding it and bitching that it's lame. What are you trying to do?"

They both turned as a father and son, a boy of about eight, both wearing Mickey ears and both sporting noticeable tails peeking out of their Old Navy cargo shorts, walked by and got into line for the Big Thunder Mountain.

"Nuh'Awksen demons?" Xander wondered.

"Yeah. Peaceful, live in small clans from here down into Baja California. And love totally safe, lame roller coasters." She was angry and her lower lip was starting to pout out.

Xander looked her right in the eye, shaking his head slowly. "I know you are fearless. You are young and nothing can hurt you. Well, this isn't about you, okay? I didn't want to say anything, but the other morning, I saw your test. It was in my trash and I knocked it over."

She looked at him in shock. Her shoulders slumped and she seemed to get smaller somehow.

"How could you…? That was private. That was my own personal private thing, how could you do that?"

"Well, it was an accident, but I did it. And I saw the results. I can't let you ride on this ride and risk getting hurt. I may seem like a wet blanket or whatever, but I can't let you do anything that might hurt your baby."

"My baby?" her voice was cold and her eyes narrowed. "So you're doing all this for my, for my baby, is that it? Just looking out for Dawnie and her baby?"

"I just want you to be okay, Dawn. All I've ever wanted is to look out for you, don't you see?"

She pushed off of the railing and bulled right into him, stretching up to put her nose right up to his. "Well lucky me. Thank the Goddess poor Dawnie Summers has the One Who Sees looking out for her, with his great big all-seeing eye!" She was so mad flecks of saliva were catching at the corners of her mouth. Slender as she was, she was backing him up quickly, her voice rising.

"It sure is lucky you're here to make little Dawnie think you love her, 'cause then she won't do anything stupid like get pregnant or date or have an original thought, and if she does, hey! You'll just make her fall in love with you so she does whatever you want. Was it hard, thinking up what to say, or have you had that ready all these years in case I ever needed protecting?"

"That's not fair! It's not like that."

"Not like that." She rocked back, her hands on her hips, and tossed her hair as she studied him. "Golly gee, Alexander LaVelle Harris, let me give you two pieces of advice in dealing with addlebrained pregnant teens…" People were starting to stare. This kind of thing doesn't happen at Disneyland.

"Number one, read the freaking instruction on the test next time and note that you have to read it within 30 minutes, you know why?" She jabbed in the chest with her finger. "Tell him, Bill Nye the Science Guy. 'Cause after about half an hour they all turn blue and light up with little plusses. That brings us to number two."

She poked him hard. He was now backed against the railing on the far side of the walkway from where they had started. "Number two," she poked again, "when your girl figures out that you are playing her, because you feel it's the noble thing to do, make your life easy and don't try to find her. She may remember a little bit of magic Willow taught her and make you as miserable as, as… as she is!" With that she slapped him hard across the face, her palm exploding against his cheek and sending his hat flying and his eye patch askew. She faltered for just a second looking at the hollow that should have held another perfect soulful brown eye, but didn't. Then the tears came past her anger and she ran off into the crowd.

He started to follow, then went to grab his hat, then thought "To hell with the hat…" and took a few steps after her, trying to fix his eye patch, calling out to her. He heard and felt a crunch and looked down. His car keys, dropped a few steps from him as she ran, were under his boot.

"Dawn? Dawn!" There was no answer, just a surge of crowds enjoying the perfect sunny day.

XVIII.

He tried her cell phone, she didn't answer. He left a message, begging her to pickup, to let him explain. He walked the park back and forth till he started to get looks from the most discrete security force in the world. He went to the car, no note. He called the apartment. Nothing.

The drive home through late rush hour did not improve his mood. He was a wreck by the time he got to the apartment. He ran inside, calling her name. All her things were there, everything where they had left it this morning. And in the bag, in the trash, in the bathroom, were the box and the instructions for the EPT.

He sat on the commode seat, reading the instructions and the bright WARNINGS. He read them over and over to see if there was any way she could have been mistaken. The damned things were blurry, how could anyone read them? He wiped the tears from his eye and read them again, and again. Finally, sobbing, he let the box fall from his fingers, and got up to wash his face.

There was still a faint impression of her hand on his cheek. She'd really let him have it. He put his hand over her handprint and backed out of the bathroom. He looked at the bed, then changed his mind and staggered over to the couch before collapsing. He'd hurt, and been hurt, before. This was worse.

He'd seen a terrible future where he drove Anya to ruin by failing her. This was worse. He'd left Anya at the altar. He'd lived through her death in the last stand against the First. This was worse.

He was raggedly breathing, past sobbing, past crying, when his cell phone rang. He opened it and frantically said, "Honey? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry where are you? Hello? Hello?"

"Uh. Okay. I miss you too, Xander. I'm in Rome. Where are you?" a puzzled and slightly excitable voice inquired.

Xander closed his eyes and collapse back into the couch. "Andrew. Hi. What do you want?" He felt his watch. "Isn't it like 5 AM there or something?"

"Very nearly," said Andrew like it was the most exciting thing he'd talked about in weeks. "Giles emailed me, he wanted Buffy to call you but she's on her way to London, must have missed his call. And I thought, hey, I'm up, why don't I call, and then I did, and then you answered and started shouting and calling me 'Honey' which was weird, but kind of nice, and then…"

"Andrew. Andrew!"

"Um, yes?"

"Why did Giles need me?"

"He didn't say, maybe he thought you needed us? You sound not okay."

"No." Xander didn't have the will to explain. "Not okay, but nothing you can do."

Andrew sounded worried. "You want we should send someone? Because I am totally on board with sending some one. I'd come myself but there is this party, and I have a date, but it can completely wait, if a mouseketeer's in trouble the call goes out…"

"Yeah, I know, thanks." He hung up before he'd finished talking.

He opened his phone again. Without looking, he called up the memory, hit speed dial for a hotline number he had never used, never expected to need, since he moved in over a year ago. It rang just once.

"It's Xander. I need… I'm in trouble and I don't know what… yeah, same place. Yeah, door'll be unlocked, so if I don't answer just come in. No, no special weapons. Positive. Bye."

He made his way to the bathroom, knelt with his head to the cool porcelain, and retched. He breathed in slowly, and shuddered again. For twenty minutes he wrung his body inside out, till there was nothing left. He was a hollow shell and if he could have flushed the shell he'd have been inside out and disappeared down the bowl long before.

"Xander?" Strong voice, not deep but powerful.

He raised his head a moment. "In here." He sank again, fighting to get a steady breath in and out. His mouth kept flooding with saliva and he had to keep spitting to keep from retching all over again.

"Wow. You look really, really, not good." There was a strong hand, dark brown and almost gentle, on his arm. He lifted his face to see Robin Wood shaking his head. Wood helped Xander to his feet.

"Whoa. First brush, then talk." Wood's eyes flicked to the mirror. Whenever the chance arose he always checked the mirror, never knowing who might and might not have a reflection. Every once and a while it paid off. He handed Xander a toothbrush.

"That's... that's hers." Xander said tiredly. He grabbed the other brush.

"Oh, it's like that. Better call the little missus and tell her I'm gonna be late."

As Xander brushed his teeth, fighting through the chalky mint flavor, and did his best to clean up, Robin moved into the living room and started talking. He had one of those cordless headsets, no visible phone, just a tiny clip on one ear with a little boom mike along his jaw. Very Impossible Missions Force. In his hands he held a page of instructions for an EPT. He gave a low whistle.

"Hello honey. It's me. Your husband. No the other one. The other one. Very funny. We have a problem. Yeah, but worse than that. No, looks sober, mostly at least. But listen: get over here okay? I may need some backup. And bring some of that green tea from my kit in the car, would you? Yeah. Yeah, hate you too. Bye love."

Xander came out toweling his face, as Wood finished his call.

Wood looked, and held up the EPT sheet and shrugged his shoulders.

"You wanna start, or do we go with torturing it out of you?" Despite serious injuries that had never quite healed, Wood was an imposing figure. Xander also knew that since he'd gotten married Wood was getting more focused, not less. Xander needed that focus.

"I've lost… someone. Someone I need to get back."

They sat, Xander on the couch, Wood on the 'company chair' across the coffee table from him.

"Lost like misplaced, or lost like 'well doesn't she look natural?' Need to know what dimension to be looking on, here." He got out a slim PDA and started making notes.

"A girl. She thinks… she has the wrong idea. I just need to get her back long enough to explain."

"You want me to find a girl, a girl who is upset with you, so you can explain to her she's wrong. You really don't date, do you? Can I ask what she's wrong about, or do I need to?" He waved at the EPT instructions on the table between them.

"She's got to come back, I know she's got to be going crazy. She thinks I don't love her."

Wood's delicate brows arched. "Really, and she is wrong about this? I realize it's been a while since we stopped by, friend, and I'm sorry… but how long have you known about this?"

"Since yesterday mostly."

"Yesterday?" He put the PDA down.

"Or years, you could put down years I guess." Xander closed his eye and leaned back on the couch. He sounded completely at wits' end, as if every action took his last ounce of strength. They sat quietly for a few minutes in silence as Wood waited for Xander to collect himself somewhat.

There was a buzzing, and Wood said, "Excuse me. Hold that slippery thought…" and tapped his earpiece. "Yeah. Number B14, west side of the complex. 'Kay." He looked at Xander. "She'll be here in about ten minutes. So, does this mystery girl have name?"

"Dawn. Dawn Summers."


	7. Parts 19 to 21

XIX.

Faith, the Vampire Slayer, pushed open the door to apartment B14.

"Yo, uncanny X-Man, what's…" The wisecrack died on her lips. With the speed and agility that showed she was not a 'Potential,' she was not a 'Slayer in Training,' she was the Real Deal, she jumped over the chair that Wood had knocked over and landed next to where the two men grappled over the coffee table.

With a combination of instinct and long practice, she had slid a stake into her hand as she cleared the chair. With the discipline she was finally bringing to her vocation, she noticed two things. Robin was mad, no form, no balance. He just had two handfuls of Xander and was shaking him. Second thing, Xander was letting him.

She flipped the stake in one hand and put the other on Xander's chest, caught the stake reversed and used it to rap Robin smartly on the knuckles. As he released his grip she pushed Xander down into the couch and waved the stake in front of Wood.

"Lucy!" she chided him, "you got some 'splainin' to do!"

Robin looked at her, then back at Xander. He shrugged, rolling his powerful shoulders and settling his jacket down over his lean frame. He wore a leather jacket now instead of his old 3-piece suits. A short tailored jacket in black leather. Faith's influence. Well, Faith and reruns of Avery Brooks on 'Spenser for Hire.' Hawk was just the Man.

"I better explain it," Wood told her. "He'll just go to pieces again, and we might need him before this is fixed. Give him a hand, we'll take your car."

"Where are we going?" she was lifting Xander off the couch, and not needing slayer strength to do it. He was pretty docile, not itself a good sign.

"The dojo. I uh, I think I broke his only chair." He started writing a note to leave on the door as his wife maneuvered Xander down into the car.

Shortly they were heading out to Anaheim in Faith's little SUV. By the time they'd reached the dojo, she had a pretty good idea of what had happened. She whistled appreciatively.

"Gotta give you props, Harris. When you fuck up you go totally balls to the wall, don't you?"

She opened his door and he followed her quietly into the little shop in a strip mall, past the red neon 'open 24 hrs' sign into the main entry. Here a hand printed sign neatly stated "Faith Wood's Dojo: Kempo, Master Sensei Robin Wood. Body Guard services. Herbal remedies." Across the bottom was a red printed notice in a totally different style and font that read "And Color Laser Copies!"

They waved to a Chinese man at the desk who looked like God's older brother. He had a strong face and a long white beard, the end of which he kept tucked in his shirt pocket. He said, "ni hao," absently and went on reading. It was the sixth "Harry Potter," probably the best one, so who could blame him?

They went down the hall and through the doors into the residence, and all three were seated at a low table, Japanese style. Faith eyed Xander while Robin set the table and began to make tea, to some elaborate formula of his own devising. She placed her palms on the table and spoke softly but firmly to him. It was amazing how centered she seemed, so unlike the restless girl Xander had first met off the bus from Boston. There were other changes too of course.

"So as I see it," she said in her business voice, "this is strictly a recovery mission. Find the girl, get her home, let you two make with the nice talk talking, yes?"

"No," Xander said, looking up. "This is not a recovery, it's a rescue. I don't care if she never speaks to me again. Well of course I care. I mean, the number one thing is that she is on the streets. Alone, in a strange city, with no money and thinking that the people who care most about her are just trying to protect her out some sense of duty. Feeling that way, she might do something dangerous just to prove she doesn't need protecting."

"So, if we can get her back to her sister, say, and she tells us not to let you within a mile? You okay with that?"

"Of course I'm not okay!" Xander shouted. He was about to smack his hand down on the table when Robin placed a saucer with a small steaming cup before him. "I'm not okay," he repeated, "but I don't care what happens to me right now, alright."

Faith looked at Robin, shaking her head slowly. "Man, boy's got it bad."

Wood took a sip of his own tea and tipped the cup at her. "You're not wrong."

XX.

October 11.

"One, please." She was standing at the ticket counter looking at the map, and thinking about the emergency money she had slipped into her shorts pocket that morning. Dawn had stopped her wildly successful career in petty theft when she was in junior high, but she still tended to squirrel things away about her person rather than carry the big girly purse. Now she was standing at the bus line station with about fifty-five dollars in cash and a twenty-five-dollar traveler's check she'd been given for graduation.

"Destination?"

"Sunnydale? Um… oh."

"No Sunnydale stops, Hon, those maps are old. New schedule's on the fliers there. So, destination?"

Dawn considered the schedules briefly. As she put her hand in her pocket, she felt the hard rectangle of Xander's credit card. She'd forgotten to return it to him after lunch the day before.

"I'm sorry. I am currently without country," she told the confused ticket seller and she turned away. In minutes she was on the local bus headed to the airport.

An hour later, she was standing at the ATM outside the airport, looking at the credit card as if she could stare it into speaking to her. She was trying to guess Xander's code for cash advance. She'd tried 2-8-3-3 (BUFF) and 2-2-7-4 (CASH) only to be rejected. If she tried another bad code it would take the card. Nothing ventured, she thought. 3-2-9-6 (DAWN).

"Please select withdrawal amount?"

"Xander, you damned fool." She was crying as she took out four hundred, the most it would allow, and headed into the terminal. She was tempted to take the first flight to anywhere, but she knew she had to have a plan.

She looked at the big departure board, and then went to the Frontier Airlines ticket counter.

"Are there any seats left on flight 829 for today?" she asked the man at the desk. He made some quick entries into his computer.

"For what date of return?"

"I won't be coming back."

"Yes, I have a one reserve left, they were just about to open standby."

"How much is that ticket?"

"The fare is 309 with your taxes and fuel surcharge. How would you like to pay for that today?"

"Cash," she said, pushing some bills and her ID over the counter to him.

XXI.

October 12.

Xander had spent the night with the Woods, trying to devise a strategy for finding Dawn. Faith had finally pushed her fingers through her dark hair, which she now wore in a short soccer-mom bob, and glared at Xander.

"Harris," she'd told him, "We're taking you home. You're no good to us here in the state you're in. Be there if she comes home or calls, and get yourself some rest." They'd dropped him off and picked up Robin's car.

Now Xander was looking at the phone and trying to figure out what he was going to tell Buffy. The phone rang in his hand and he immediately answered it, tying to stay calm.

"Hello?"

"Hello Xander? It's Buffy." She sounded concerned. Great. Word must have spread already. "I heard about what's going on in California, and I wanted you to know we're sending some people. Are you okay?"

"It's been a rough couple days… And thanks for the support, but I'm not sure how much the Watchers' Council can do…"

"Oh didn't you hear? That would be Slayers' Council, now. We actually outnumber them, at least for the time being. We have some good people coming there, should get everything squared away. And if not, hey, I always knew you and I had one more fight coming."

"Buff, I'm sorry. You have to know that. If I could undo this I would, but I don't want to fight you, I just want it over."

"Fight me? What are you talking about? I was talking about us fighting together, like old times. Xander?"

"If anything happens to Dawn you know that I would…" he began.

"Dawn?" she interrupted. "What happened to Dawn? Is she there? What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Dawn being missing. What are you talking about?"

"Some sort of Zombie army that's been building in Beverly Hills… back up! Dawn is missing from where since when?"

It took a while but they finally sorted out that Giles and Buffy had been trying to reach him to talk about some Zombie issue in the 90210, and had no clue that Dawn was even staying with him that week. He managed to give Buffy the bare details without going into any of the more troubling issues.

"So, you and Dawnie had a fight, and she ran away? That is so like her." Buffy sounded a little exasperated but not too concerned. "Let's just hope she stays out of Beverly Hills."

"Buff," said Xander "I love you, and will never forget you for saving my life and the whole world numerous times, but some times you really piss me off."

"Me? What did I do?" She sounded shocked, and hurt.

"Did you know Dawn was even here? No, you thought she was still at school. You told us once you wanted to show her the world, to see her grow up, to be there for her… Well guess what, you missed it. We all did. She grew up anyway, and there has been no one there for her. I'm living with that right now and I think it's time you started living with it too."

"Xander…" She didn't know what to say. Her life was complicated, and hard, and she had been distracted, on her own journey of cookie-dough baking personal discovery. She'd always thought there would be plenty of time with Dawn afterwards.

"Like I said, I love you, Buff. But do me a favor? You and your Council go fight zombies or do whatever it is you guys do now to stop the world from ending. As long as you keep the world running, I'm going to focus on living in it." He broke the connection and stared into space for a minute.

"Okay. I'm eighteen. I want to run away and I have some cash and my ID but nothing else but the clothes on my back… Hey!" He pulled out his wallet, thumbed through. "And my boyfriend's credit card, the boyfriend I am angry and hurt by. What do I do next?"

He made a call, and hit some bureaucracy. "Mr. Harris, we show a cash withdrawal at Orange County airport, but if the card has been stolen we can happily cancel it and issue you a new card…"

"It's not stolen, don't shut it off! It's just my… uh, my fiancée has it and I need to know if she's made any charges… wherever it is she went."

"Sir, if you want to add your fiancée to your account we will need to issue her a card in her name, sir. Let me transfer you to account management…"

"No wait, don't…" It was too late. He finally just had them make up a second card in his name he could pick up at the credit union before lunch.


	8. Parts 22 to 24

XXII.

Another call.

"Wills."

"Xander?" Willow sounded upset and angry. "What the heck is going on? I just got a call from Buffy wanting to know if we knew Dawn had been out to see you."

"So then, when I said yes she blew up and started going all 'how can I be expected to run this family if no one tells me what's going on' and she was really mean. Then she started crying and told me she loved me and if Dawn calls please let her know at once. Then Giles calls and asks if you had called me about the Zombie problem… Zombie problem? What kind of Disneyland trips are you running?"

"I'm sorry, Willow. Let me explain… No, there is no time. Let me sum up… I need a favor, and then I need you to not ask me any more questions till I get something resolved here. I know it's not fair, but it's not like I ask for a whole lot of favors."

He was proud of the way she did not hesitate. "What can we do?"

"I need a locator spell on Dawn, she's not here and I need to find her right away."

"Oh jeez, no can do!"

"What? Why not?" He was pacing. The apartment felt too small for him.

Willow's voice showed her anxiety. "When Buffy called I tried to get a fix, and she shimmered away. I taught her that, never thought she's use it on me."

"Um, once more, with English?"

"She cast a _velius_ spell, makes her un-locatable. Magically I mean. You'll still be able to see her like physically and stuff. At least I think so. I hope so. Yes, I think so. Anyway, the spell is good for at least two days, maybe more if she can find another rose quartz pendant and recast it."

"Oh, great. Any idea where she was when she cast the spell at least?"

"Why didn't I think of that? Hold on…" She was gone just a few moments. "Chicago. A park, by the lake. You want me to tell Buffy?"

"It's okay, Willow. No point in getting her even more upset, and if she goes in all cavalry charge, things will just be worse."

"Well, okay, mister, but I expect a full report, okay?"

"Absolutely. I find her, you're the fourth or fifth to know, I promise."

""You're so weird. Sometimes I regret letting you break my Barbie so you would be forced by guilt into being my friend for twenty years… Who am I kidding? No, I don't. Go do whatever you need to do, then we need to have some quality time, buster."

"It's a date. Promise." He knew he could count on Willow.

"Love you too. Bye."

He called Robin and Faith.

"It's me. Can you guys take a few days away?"

"I can get one of the part timers to cover classes. Faith's between clients… sure. Where we going?"

"Chicago. I'll meet you at LAX in say two hours? I need to make some arrangements."

"Um, Chicago, like Wrigley Field Chicago? Might take us a little bit to shake some transport out of Giles and his crew. We're not exactly on payroll there but family's family." Robin was obviously worried about the expenses but didn't want to say so.

"No worries. I got it taken care of. Just be there." Xander had his command voice going. Wood couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd heard it. He was smiling when he hung up his phone.

As he drove to the bank to pick up his new card, Xander thought about what Wood had said. "Family's family." It seemed important but Xander couldn't pin down why.

XXIII.

October 12, earlier that day.

Before her plane had landed in Illinois, Dawn was cold. Her sweater had been mostly a fashion accessory and a guard against occasional drafts and was totally unsatisfactory in keeping her warm. The goose bumps on her arms had goose bumps, and her legs, long and lean, were unfortunately well exposed by her shorts.

"Memo- when running, have clothes." The girl in the seat next to her looked at her strangely. Dawn had been muttering a lot on the flight, talking over something that had her upset, and the girl in the next seat was a little uncomfortable sitting next to the scary girl.

And isn't that what I am? Dawn had asked herself. The scary girl? The girl who cut herself. The girl everyone has memories of but who never really existed till she was molded out of some sort of universal energy? No wonder she had become junior Research Girl: everyone asks where did I come from and why am I here. They just don't usually get apocalyptic answers.

When she reached Chicago, Dawn had bought a pair of U of I sweat pants and an oversize Windy City t-shirt at the terminal. She'd wanted a jacket but there was nothing she could afford at the gift shop prices.

She'd taken a cab to an address that she had memorized almost three years before, using most of her remaining cash, and approached the door of an older but very charming townhouse.

With a nervous knot flattening her stomach against her spine, she rang the bell. A young man with short sandy hair and a neatly trimmed beard answered. He was about twenty-six or twenty-eight and had on navy scrubs and a jacket with worn canvas tennis shoes. He looked as if he had just been heading out.

"Hello?" he looked at her with curiosity, noting the new-looking clothes and the red-rimmed eyes of the young lady knocking at the door.

"Hullo… I'm… is this Darlene Sutherland's house?"

"You mean Darlene Pond?"

"I, um, I'm not sure. Is she in? I kind of need to speak to her."

"I'm sorry, she's in Puerto Rico till next Thursday."

"Puerto Rico?" Dawn felt about twelve years old and her shoulders slumped. "What's she… I mean, thank you very much for your time. Would you let her know her niece Dawn said hello? I was just in the neighborhood."

"Oh, I'm sorry Dawn. I'm just house-sitting for her and Doctor Pond till they get back from the honeymoon. Nate and I work together at the medical school. I have to run now or I'm going to be late, but I'm sure Mrs. Pond will want to know you stopped by. Is there a number she can reach you...?" He had a piece of paper in his hand and was feeling around in his pockets for a pen.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm afraid I won't be in town that long. Thanks for your time."

"Sure thing. Could I give you a lift somewhere?" He'd seen the taxi pulling away as he came to the door. "I'm just going over to County General."

She was torn between wanting to be alone and wanting to be warm and safe and have someone take care of her. She went with warm.

"Sure, I'm heading that way myself actually."

He stuck out a hand. "Doug, Doug Parker."

"Dawn Summers."

He took her to his rusted reliable, an old Civic that was parked a little way down the block. As they drove towards the hospital along the shore of the lake, he tried to make conversation, but she was a million miles away. They were coming up to a park where kids were flying kites when she suddenly bolted upright.

"You okay, miss? Dawn?"

She looked at him as if she had no idea where she was and why she was riding with him. "Please, can you drop me here?"

"Sure." He pulled over. "Are you okay, really?"

She was already getting out. "Yes, thanks for the ride Doug."

"Yeah no problem." He was a little worried, but he was also running late and couldn't afford another chewing out at work. "Take care of yourself, you hear?" He merged his Honda back into traffic and soon was out of sight.

Dawn looked at the rose quartz pendant around her neck, that had been tugging and tingling at her. Someone was trying to find her. She quickly sat on a park bench, her pendant in her palm, her eyes closed. She began reciting:

"_Abdere, celare, abscondere_."

"_Latito, velius occultus_."

"_Absit, absit, absit!_"

Her necklace was hot on her hand. When she opened her eyes the pendant was charred an ugly black and there was soot on her palm. She grinned without humor.

"I said don't try to find me, Xander."

She dropped the necklace in a trashcan and began walking along the lake, wondering what to do next. For the first time in her life, she was really free to do whatever she wanted. How does a person figure out what it is that she wants to do?

XXIV.

October 12. That night.

Faith looked at Robin, eyes closed and breathing softly, reclined in his seat on the airplane as they began to make their descent towards Chicago. As always, her tough game face, all business, was softened a bit at the edges when she looked at him. Especially when he could not see her looking.

She turned and looked across the aisle at Xander. His hands were folded across his lap and he was sitting straight. It looked like he hadn't relaxed at all since they had taken off, and that he was planning on springing up as soon as the wheels stopped rolling. She was more than a little worried about him. She leaned a bit across the aisle towards him.

"X-Man, are you going to be okay here?" He turned and looked at her. His jaw muscles worked a bit before he spoke.

"Sure," he lied.

"Xander, what in all our long and shameless history together makes you think you can lie to me? You never could lie worth dick." She reached out and put a hand on his arm. The old Faith would have had the quip, but not the touch. Xander guessed she was finally growing up.

"What do you want me to say?" He regarded her briefly, and then turned back to face forward and spoke softly. "You of all people should know how it feels, to know that you've made a mistake, that it's worth whatever it takes to set things right."

"Yeah, I do. And I also know you can't do that without finding at least one person you can trust. We all get caught up in the fight, in the Big Bad. We forget that there's a lot more than fighting out there. Sounds way corny, but I thought you would have figured that out."

Xander glanced at her again, and nodded towards Robin. "And what about you? All that love in the world, you two been married what, eight months and you still give him a hard time about everything."

"Oh hell yes. Absolutely." She looked back at her husband. "He looks so peaceful. Even when he was bleeding out in the back of that school bus and giving me the Mickey, there's something about the man that's peaceful. He decided a long time ago who he was and what he stood for, then worked his whole life to be that person."

She turned back to Xander. "And even when he's gone four days on nothing but those teas of his 'cause his guts are patched together wrong and they can't quite make it right no matter what magics or surgeries they do, he still has that peace. Now he's sharing it with me. That's why we do the bodyguard work, personal protection services I should say. There are people bringing peace and order to the world for ordinary folks, folks who need it. We help take care of those people."

Xander looked at her. "Wow, that was the most I've ever heard you talk at once without swearing. The man is indeed a powerful influence."

"The man is also resting," came Robin's voice suddenly, "and would like to keep doing so while he enjoys the cushy first class seat." His eyes were still closed, his face almost serene. "The man has never flown first class and may never do so again, and would like his wife and his friend to go join the colicky baby in coach if they are going to keep talking."

Faith grinned at Xander, and then leaned over to brush her lips against Robin's cheek. He smiled like Buddha. "Honey," she told him, "don't make me stuff you in the overhead bin. You might shift during flight."

"Yes, dear." He opened one eye to peek at her, and then closed it again slowly. Faith grinned at him, which years ago would have been just spooky but now was nearly sweet. Xander would have smiled if he could.


	9. Parts 25 to 27

XXV.

Xander and the Woods looked at the huge lakeside park, watching the streetlights coming on in the gathering dusk. Xander wrapped his charcoal duster tighter about him.

"I had no idea this park stretched all this way along here. We're going to have to split up. Robin, you take the walkways, Faith, the shore. I'll work back along the jogging trail towards the hospital. "

"Yes, sir, Boss Man." For such a wildcard rogue spirit, Faith had always responded well to strong leadership. She knew that had not always worked out well for her, but now she felt she was doing much better in choosing who she followed.

"Sounds fair." Robin eyed the many dark nooks, alcoves and overhangs in the park. He had grown up in New York, and had a lot more city patrol hours logged than Faith or their friend from California. "Now honey, if you meet any other kids on the playground, promise me you'll play nice." He straightened the lapels of her jacket and mimed wiping a spot of dirt off her cheek with his thumb.

"I promise, Daddy!" She brushed her imaginary pigtails off over her shoulder and literally skipped down towards the water, laughing.

"That's a strange girl," Xander said.

"You have no idea." Wood turned to Xander. "Okay, Faith's gone to play, and we're losing daylight. Make this quick- where do you get the funds for three tickets to Chicago on the first flight with no reservations and no round trip?"

"I came into some money."

"First class?"

"It's complicated. We couldn't wait, and I wanted three together. It's not important, Robin."

"Xander, I've never had any reason not to trust you. Please don't ever give me one." He started walking, his ebony walking stick clicking on the sidewalk. It concealed no blades, held no hidden spikes or special combat aids, but it was easy to check through security and it didn't scream out "heavily armed vampire hunter" which sometimes gave Wood an advantage. He started heading towards a coffee shop in the distance. Looked like it might be a college hang out, a place to start asking around at least.

Xander pulled his coat tight and looked up into the cloudy sky. "Just let me find her. Let her be okay. That's all." He started working the other way along the trail, looking for Dawn, for clues, for hope.

After about twenty minutes, Xander was thoroughly wet from the misty breezes off the lake, cold and tired. The wind kept pulling his coat open, then rain or spray or whatever it was would slosh over him, keeping him alternating between freezing and clammy. When his cell vibrated in his pocket, he almost missed it over the shivering,

"Xand, it's Faith. Got a guy here, says he saw her about four hours ago buying a hotdog from a, well, a hotdog guy. From a cart over by the boat dock, down your end. Said she had on a white sweater and blue pants. Robin's working some bar. Girl says she might have seen Dawn getting out of a car earlier. Green Honda, with a hospital tag on the window."

"Good work, Faith. I'm nearly down to the dock now, let me see what I can see."

"Roger that. Keep an eye. Already had to persuade a couple a junkies down here they could not have my jacket."

"Faith?" He was suspicious. "How much persuasion? Are we lucky there is a hospital right over there?"

She laughed. "No comment, commandant. Robin and I will start heading your way in a few, and we'll compare notes. Maybe I can find a few more talkative lads down here first. Out." She cut the connection.

"Slayers," Xander muttered. Before him was a sort pier, with a couple of little boats tied to one side and a concession stand or boat rental or something. It was just a little shack, now shuttered. The light over the end of the dock had been broken, and shadows stretched all around. It shouted out danger and uncertain menace. He felt right at home.

He saw some men, maybe four or five, smoking cigarettes and drinking out of a couple of bottles in paper sacks. They were laughing and talking amongst themselves. They seemed to be gathered around the side door to the shack. One of them took a long pull from his bottle, and then smashed it against the door.

Xander heard a squeal from inside and the men started hooting and laughing. He knew that squeal. He broke into a run.

As he reached the group of men, Xander saw through the gloom that several of them seemed to be nursing fresh injuries. They turned as he slid to a stop on the gravel path and started easing out onto the end of the dock, hands open at his sides.

"Well looky. We got a hero here? I doubt it." The man who spoke was short, about 5' 6" with a big grin and eyes that had a sleepy sad look to them. The others took a step to either side to bracket the man and started to encircle Xander.

"Can't be the cavalry. No bugles." They laughed again. Xander continued to close slowly. "Must be the night in shining armor here to save the girl. Oh, but where's his mighty steed and magic sword?"

"HELP!" Dawn's voice came from inside the shack. The men had obviously been working on getting in, based on the number of muddy boot prints that surrounded the doorknob. "Call the police, please? Hello?" She sounded scared, but her voice was strong and Xander felt a huge weight lifting from his heart. He smiled, and it was not a friendly smile.

"Hello, fella's smiling. What do you say to that, Ray?" said the little man in mock surprise. They wanted to get Xander surrounded but there wasn't room. One, presumably Ray, called out an answer.

"Dude can't see, maybe can't count. Five of us, one of him." He drew a gun. It was small and dull and black in the man's large fist. Xander glanced at it but kept his attention on the leader.

The semicircle tightened. Xander had hoped to wait for Faith and Robin, but it looked like time was not going to be on his side tonight.

"Dawn?" he called out, glad his voice didn't break. "Stay where you are, okay?"

The men started laughing and calling "Dawn! Dawn?" She didn't answer.

Xander could see now the little man had a fresh shiner on one eye and a split lip. Dawn must have tagged him pretty good before getting backed into the little shack. Ray was leaning in a little, and Xander saw his chance.

He threw a snapping side-kick at Ray, connecting and sending the gun flying into the water. He braced for their rush, but they didn't come. That's when Xander realized the truth: they weren't demons. They weren't vampires or zombies or mummies or mystic warriors or robots or anything supernatural.

"You're ordinary people," Xander said quietly. "And if you've hurt Dawn, I can beat an ordinary person. I could kill an ordinary person."

The leader looked a lot less sure of himself now but he was obviously not going to let Xander take the coolness high ground here. He looked at his buddies, and then looked at Xander.

"What are you gonna do, kid, kill us all?" his voice dripped scorn.

XXVI.

Xander smiled again. Growing up, he and his best friends, Willow and Jesse, had worn out his tape of the movie "Stand by Me." In that movie, young Wil Wheaton holds a gun on a gang leader named Ace, played by Kiefer Sutherland. Ace looks at Wheaton and says in that exact same scornful voice, that exact same line. "What are you gonna do kid, kill us all?"

For once in his life, Xander had the absolute perfect reply. His hands came to his side and he stood straight, which made the others relax just the slightest bit. It was all he needed.

"No, Ace," Xander quoted calmly, "Just you."

And with that, he took one long step and his left hand shot out around the leader's throat. His buddies jumped in trying to help him, but Xander had the little man raised on his toes trying to break free, and he used him to block the two coming from his blind side. The two on his right, he jabbed at savagely, connecting with one and sending him sprawling.

"Ace" was turning pale, but his eyes were bulging as he struggled. The little man kicked, connecting with Xander's stomach and thighs, but he missed the groin or knee shot that might have broken him free.

A blow to his head staggered Xander. Ray or the other one had gotten past the body of their leader and landed a jab. Xander held on, critically eying the affect he was having on the leader, the man Xander thought of as Ace, who was now clawing uselessly at Xander's arm.

"Xander!" He heard Robin's voice from the up by the street.

"I got this. She's here!" Xander shouted over his shoulder. He used Ace as a club to sweep the attacking man on his left down, then stomped the man's knee to keep him down. Ray was already down and holding his bleeding nose. The leader of the gang was starting to become limp, and his eyes were rolling back in his head. Xander dropped him and moved to the door.

"Dawn, it's me!" he called to her, trying to see if there was any other way into the shuttered shop. "Are you, are you okay?"

The door opened a crack, and then opened wide and everything was okay. She was in his arms and crying and looking at the men scattered around on the dock. He held her back and gave her a quick appraisal.

She was dirty, and her hair was matted to her face. There was a cut on her forehead and blood had dripped into her eyes and been wiped on her sleeve… then he looked at her sweater and saw that it had been torn across the front, and her shirt with it. She was holding the pieces together with one hand and holding him with the other, and there was some blood. More blood soaked her side and down her sweatpants.

Robin had arrived, Faith not far behind him.

He looked at Robin with an unspoken plea. The older man held out his arms to Dawn. She went to him, skirting around one of the men on the dock who was starting to make wheezing and whuffing noise as he held his knee. Xander looked around, and saw the man he had been choking earlier trying to crawl down the dock away from them.

As Faith started lugging the injured thugs towards the nearest lit area, a park bench some 20 yards towards the street, Xander turned and headed after their fleeing front man. He grabbed him by the collar and by the belt and lifted him to his feet in front of the shack, spinning him with a jerk so he was backed against the wall.

"What happened, huh Ace?" Xander asked, and then slammed his fist into the man's face. Ace's teeth cracked together and his head crashed into the wall with a thud. As he started to slide down the wall, Xander grabbed him and held him up with his left hand while hitting him with his right.

Punch. Blood flew from the man's mouth in a fan across the boards next to him as his head lolled to the side.

"Just out for something fun?" Punch. Something grated in Ace's cheek, bits of bone rubbing together where no joint ought to be. The man screamed.

"You got something against women in general?" Xander yelled over the man's scream. Punch. Something snapped in Xander's hand. Maybe a finger, maybe one of those bones up in your hand they have to put a screw in for your whole life so you can tell when it's going to rain.

The man's eyes rolled and blood was running from his mouth and nose. The boards in the wall behind his head were starting to splinter with each impact. It was not certain if he was still breathing. Xander planned to make it certain.

"Or maybe," Xander said, raising his hand once more, cocking it like a crossbow aimed between the man's eyes, "maybe it was something personal?" He let fly.

And there, stopping his hand with a smacking sound an inch from the man's face was a small and preternaturally strong hand. It took Xander a moment to grasp that his blow had not landed. He looked at Faith, who had caught his fist in hers.

"Don't do it, Xander. It's not who you are, and it's not who you wanna be, you dig?" She wasn't sure she was getting through. "Dawn needs you. You need her. Let him go."

Xander let Ace go, and watched as he slid to the ground where he started moaning and swearing through the bubbles of bile and blood in his mouth.

"Gonna geth eeyou. Gonna thoe eeyou how thoo rethpek…" the babbling become completely unintelligible. Faith walked Xander back to Robin and Dawn.

Dawn had Wood's jacket around her shoulders and was looking at Xander with worry and fear. She was talking to Robin but her eyes stayed on Xander.

"I wasn't thinking. They saw my money when I bought a soda from a shop over there and came after me when I left the store. One got around in front of me and tried to knock me down and take it."

She closed her eyes. "He didn't know anything about close fighting. The blood… on my legs and my side, it's his. But there were more, and they had a knife. A real big one, like your basic Bringer special. I managed to get free after a bit and I ran down here. I popped the lock and got in there." She opened her eyes and gestured towards the now very dark boat dock. "I'd lost my phone, and there was hardly any light. I threw the deadbolt, and just prayed someone would see them trying to break in."

She turned to Faith. "How did you find me?"

Faith shrugged and pointed to Xander. "I followed him."

Robin took Dawn by the arm, nodded to Faith to get a hold of Xander. He looked at the hospital about two blocks down at the end of the park. "We need to get them looked at, and call someone to pick up the trash…"

"This ain't Sunnydale, lover," Faith said with a frown. "We bring them in like this, add a police report for Xander's playmates over there, and there are bound to be questions."

"Like what are you doing violating your parole, being in Illinois?" Robin finished for her. She would not have said it, but the thought did worry her.

Dawn said, "I'll be alright, really. I've Band-Aided over worse… but what about Xander." She turned to him, "Are you okay?"

He looked at his hand, covered in blood and starting to throb unpleasantly. "Not sure. Depends on if you'll come home with me and let me show I'm sorry, I know I was wrong."

"You are impossible." Her exasperated tone drew his attention. "How can I stay mad at you for looking out for me when you keep doing such a good job of it? Let's get the hell back to California. It's cold here."

XXVII.

The weary troop made a long stop at the pharmacy, and Xander made several calls to the airline. They couldn't get a flight back till morning, the red eye, so they wound up at the Le Meridien Hotel on the advice of a well-tipped cab driver.

Robin Wood told them to wait in the cab, popped out, and had some words with the doorman. He waved at them to hold on, and disappeared inside. When he returned he looked vexed.

"Okay gang," he said poking his head into the cab, "we can get suites or we can share one room. Also, I think is nicer than we had in mind."

Xander reached painfully into his pocket with his bandaged hand and pulled out his new charge card. "Get a suite. Get two. And some dinner. We'll worry about clothes for tomorrow later, after we get Dawn cleaned up." The adrenaline rush was leaving him stranded on the beach as it receded. He hurt all over, and every time he looked at Dawn, slumped in Robin's jacket against Faith's side, he ached inside too.

Robin looked, and was surprised to see a platinum card. "Okay, you're the boss. But we have to have a serious funding talk once we get this settled, okay?"

They efficient concierge staff bustled Xander and Robin into something called a Junior Suite King, and the girls into a matching merlot-and-honey-hued room across the hall. Dinner was probably as rich and amazing as the rooms themselves, but no one paid any attention.

Xander lay on the bed after mechanically eating what Robin had placed in front of him. Wood folded their clothes away neatly and then changed the dressing on Xander's hand. As carefully as possible, he examined the swelling and bruising. As two of the non-mystical humans to survive Sunnydale and the last battle, they'd had their share of experience with broken bones.

"Looks like a clean break. I'll wrap it tight and we can worry about it when you get home."

"Do you think she's… you know, okay?" Xander had his eye closed and had not moved since he collapsed on the bed.

"I'm sure she is. I peeked in when dinner came and there were robes and slippers, very girly. I believe the plan for after dinner includes a bubble bath but that's not something Faith would ever admit out loud."

"Oh, and we figured out what Dawn was doing here. Apparently the Summers girls have an aunt who lives here. Dawn tried to contact her but she's out of town."

He said 'aunt' like 'ont.' That always sounded sophisticated to Xander, whose family had always said 'aunt' like 'ant.' Xander always wanted to say it the sophisticated way, something he usually remembered a few seconds after saying 'ant.'

"She could have saved the trip," Xander said, eye closing again.

"Why do you say that?" Robin remembered studying Buffy before settling in Sunnydale, and his school's records of Dawn. There was never mention of any family other than the girls' estranged father.

"When Joyce died, their mom, when she died I got family and friends phone duty. Anya got the bills and the banks. Giles got the government paperwork. I got friends and family. Did I say that already? So I call Joyce's sister Darlene, well half sister I think but I never really got that straight. I can still remember the silence on the line, and I'm thinking what kind of thing is that, to find out your sister's dead from a stranger on the phone."

"Then she made this little air sucking sound and I thought she was going to cry. Instead she goes off on me about how she told Joyce to leave California and it's sinful ways. She just about came out and said Joyce must have got what she deserved. She didn't come for the funeral, and she never called again that I know of to check on the girls or anything. I figured it was something the girls didn't really need to know at the time, and they never asked me about it later."

They were both quiet for a while.

Wood said, "You were an only child too, right?"

"Yeah. It was me, and Willow, and my friend Jesse for years. He died, but then there was Buffy and Dawn. "

"I'll never understand families, I suppose," Wood mused.

Xander rolled over. Wood thought he was asleep. After some minutes, Xander spoke,

"You really love Faith, don't you?"

"Yes, I do. It's not been easy, but it's always worth it."

"Then you do understand families."

There was another long pause, and Wood got up and covered Xander with a duvet. He slipped across to the other room to check on his wife and Dawn.

In the opposite suite, Dawn was sitting in a huge terry robe, a mug of something hot in her hands and her hair drying in the warm air. Faith was also in a fluffy robe, but she had put her spike heel black suede boots back on, and they were propped up on the table.

"Now there's something you… well actually never see ever at all," noted Wood as he sat on the corner of the writing desk and observed them. "How is everyone?"

"We were just discussing how useless men are and how lucky you are we're here," said Dawn quietly. Although she had gotten used to her former principal being around, she was still wary of talking to him as something like a peer.

"Right on, sister" said Faith. She was drinking something that clinked in the glass, but Robin knew that she almost never really drank now. She'd splash a suggestion of vodka over a glass of ice and drown it in coke. Often at home she joined him in tea, but it wasn't something she ever made on her own.

"How's the boss?" There was a time in her life when being Faith's boss meant having a black heart and a blacker soul, if any. She liked the idea of following someone who had a heart and used it.

"Rough. It was touch and go for a while I think."

Dawn sloshed her mug as she quickly sat up. "What do you mean? Do we need to get a doctor? Is it bad?"

Faith chuckled, bringing her up short. "Boy, they both got it bad, eh lover?"

Robin 'shushed' her and turned back to Dawn.

"Dawn, I can't imagine what things are like for you two right now. I won't try. But if you care about Xander at all, please be careful around him for a while. Whether you do love him or not, you'll want him as your friend some day, and it's not smart to make that harder for yourselves than it has to be."

"Listen to Doctor Love," marveled his wife. "Who dreamed the man possessed such mad skills?"

"I have hidden depths," Robin replied with a little wink at Dawn.

Dawn went into the bathroom to rinse out her cup. She was sore, but clean. A line of butterfly Band-Aids crossed one collarbone and down onto her breast, and she had a couple split fingernails that were now taped up. When she thought about what could have happened if not for her friends, she shuddered.

She'd told Faith that she was more embarrassed than hurt, and Faith had pointed out the sad fact that ordinary people were hurting and killing each other every day all over the world. Life's not all demons and apocalypses. Dawn remembered Riley Finn pondering once what it said about their lives that he needed to know the plural of apocalypse.

Dawn came out after brushing her teeth and hair, and saw Faith and Robin holding each other, her hands on his face, his arms around her. They looked perfect, apart from the world, and Dawn tried to slip past them to the door.

""Hey, where you headed, D?" Faith was eying her suspiciously.

"I thought you guys might like to be alone for a while. Nice room, huge bed, big tub… You guys should be alone."

"I don't think you should be alone, Dawn, and you're not even dressed…" Robin trailed off as his wife prodded him in the ribs. "Ah, not dressed and not alone. Right."

"Wicked cool, girl," enthused Faith. "Just be careful with him. Guys aren't as tough as we are." It occurred to Dawn that there were several ways she might mean that.

"I know."

She slipped across the hall and used Robin's key to enter the other suite. She saw Xander, duvet twisted around his legs, sleeping in the middle of the big bed. As quietly as she could, she slipped next to him, and wormed herself carefully under his right arm and back against him.

As she drifted to sleep, he rolled on his side. He put his other arm over her and spooned against her. It didn't feel like being home, it felt like finally having one again.


	10. Parts 28 to 30

XXVIII.

October 16.

They had been back in Lago Vista for three days, and other than a cast on Xander's hand there seemed no long-term damage physically. Dawn and Xander had said their goodbyes to the Woods at the airport and driven back to Xander's apartment together.

Xander had asked Dawn to come with him to the doctor to have her cuts looked at. She had refused and he'd been too scared to press the point. When he came home with his cast, she had made sure he took his medicine then she went to his room and closed the door.

After waking up in each other's arms in Chicago, they had not spoken about anything important. Now, days later, neither knew where to start. Dawn lived in his bedroom and kept the door closed except during meals or when Xander was using the bathroom. Xander stuck to the couch and listened to old Cibo Matto CDs softly on the stereo.

It was time to do something, and Xander figured he ought to be the one to do it. He knocked softly on the bedroom door.

"Dawn? Are you awake?"

"Yes. Bathroom's free."

He went to open the door, paused. "Are you decent?" he called.

"Yes!" She didn't laugh.

He opened the door and saw her, wearing slacks and a cotton shirt, lying on her side facing the wall. He went to the bed, and asked softly, "Can I sit down? I think we need to talk."

"If you want. It's your bed." Not hostile, just hollow.

"Dawn, this is hard to say and I'm sure you would rather forget about it, but here goes. I was wrong to act the way I did. Not because I was trying to protect you or take care of you, but because you trusted me and I didn't trust you. I was afraid to ask you what was going on so I made a bunch of wrong assumptions and hurt you. I almost got you killed in Chicago and there's nothing I can do to make up for that." He thought she might be crying.

"If you want to leave," he said, looking down at the quilt on his bed, "I'll understand. I'll get you wherever you need to go, or call your sister. Whatever. I just want you to know that wish I could take it all back somehow and start again." She was crying, and he stopped.

For a long while they stayed that way.

"It's all true, you know," she said suddenly. He waited for her to continue.

"I'm the girl who has to be looked out for. The girl kidnapped by demons, the girl whose date is a vampire, the girl who steals tings. The girl who cuts herself just to see if she's real. I've always complained about the way you all treated me. Dad, Mom, Tara. Buffy. Even you. But I've always needed you. You didn't get me almost killed, I did that trying to be on my own."

She rolled over and looked at him. "I'm never going to be on my own, not and be safe. I'm always going to be the girl who needs you looking out for me. How fun will that be in a year? In five? In twenty?"

"I'm the Key, Xander. Ever think about what that means? I wasn't born, Xander! We all act like it's no big deal, but I wasn't born. I wasn't real. Some mystical monks decided they were the guardians of everything shiny and bright in the universe, so they needed to create something you guys would protect. Then, they took this ball of energy and made me, and with what mojo they had left they made you all remember loving me for years so you would protect me."

"And it worked. I'm protected. I can't get killed if I try, because you will always be there for me no matter how bad my decisions are. But what's it mean? What am I for, Xander? What am I for?" She was crying again and he reached out to touch her.

She pulled away, angry. "Stop it. Don't tell me I'm just being silly and it's all going to be okay."

"I wasn't going to." Xander looked at her and said calmly, "Dawn, you were made from a ball of energy that went through amazing changes and became a person. You don't know why you were made, so you're not sure how to live your life. You worry that you hurt the people who love you."

"Yes, yes!" she sobbed at him. "It's not fair!"

"No it's not. But Dawn, you're not alone." He waved his hand at the room, the world. "This, all of this, came from a ball of energy. We're not sure why everything was made, and we aren't sure how to live our lives. We all worry about hurting the people we love, because they're all we have."

He looked at her face, her hair. "I don't know why you're here, but I don't know why I'm here either. You've made bad choices? Then start making good ones."

"I want to be with you, Xander. I like the way I feel about myself when you talk about me. Is that selfish of me?"

"Yes, but it's not wrong. It's good to feel good, it's good to be happy. Ever since I saw that settlement check, I've been wondering what to do with the money. While we were in Chicago I realized what I need to do. I want to help people be happy. When I figure out how, I'll do it. As long as I can, as much as I can."

"You can start right here. Make me happy right here on this bed." Shaking her head, she wrinkled her nose at him. "I actually just said that didn't I?"

He grinned. "As you wish, Buttercup." He leaned in and kissed her nose, then hugged her. They cuddled together and soon were napping sprawled together on the bed.

XXIX.

October 20.

Xander was lying on his bed, wearing long flannel pajama pants and reading the paper. Dawn sat on the end of the bed in the tops of the flannel pajamas and not much else. They came down to mid-thigh, but on Dawn that was pretty far. She was chewing a pencil and looking at some notes he'd made for her the night before.

"Okay, I've established that my math is better than yours, but that's not a huge accomplishment," she told him around her pencil. "Still, these numbers seem to work out. I'd have someone like Robin check them over to be sure. I think it will work."

He smiled at her over the top of the paper. She was gorgeous. He was glad they were settling in together. The place was too small for them both really, but they were always on the bed, or in it, anyway.

"Okay, I'll call Carlos and Mandy this afternoon, see if we can get things started."

"She was the scheduler for your crew, right? What does he do?"

"He's the local building supervisor for Habitat. If anyone knows where and how to build the most people a decent place to live, it'd be Carlos."

She cocked her head at him critically. "Have I told you this morning that I love you, rather?"

"I say, my lady, I do think so. But please, do say it again." He grinned at her.

"You're crazier than me. That suits me nicely. It makes me the sane responsible one at least part of each day. Now kiss me and go see if the coffee's ready."

"Yes, dear." He gave her a kiss somewhere between affectionate and pornographic and padded out to the kitchen. Kissing Dawn always made him feel happy. Dirty too. He knew that eventually he would get over that part, or mostly over it.

He was glad Dawn appeared to be in no rush to make their relationship more physical. As tempting as she was, they had other issues to deal with without too much sex in the picture. It was sort of like high school. They dated, kissed, and cuddled half naked and giggling, but stopped short of more.

He stopped, coffee pot in hand, listening to Dawn as she gathered up the newspaper. She'd cranked a Dingoes Ate My Baby bootleg he'd bought off eBay, and he could hear her dancing around to the song the way she liked to do after a long kiss-and-grope morning. Actually, as he recalled, that was nothing like high school at all. Anyway, he was adjusting to being in love, as was she, and it was going pretty smoothly.

He heard a soft knock at the door. He called back to Dawn as he went to answer it, "Are we expecting anyone?"

He opened the door part way, then completely, and stood in shock.

"Hello, Xander," said Buffy. "Seen my sister?"

XXX.

"Uh. Um. Uh."

"Think we've covered that part. Can I come in?" She walked past him and looked around his place. It was smaller than she'd pictured when Willow had told her Dawn was going to spend some time there this fall before deciding on colleges in the spring. She'd just sort of pictured it bigger.

"Um. Hi. Buffy. Buffy!" He stood by the doorway, coffee pot in one hand, and doorknob in the other.

Buffy looked at him and laughed. "Nice look for you Xander. Cross between a bare-chested galley slave and a big flannelly pirate. Do I get a hug?"

"Sure, sure…" He moved forward, realized just in time he had a pot of hot coffee and did not hug her with it. She backed a few steps away to let him set the pot on the stove.

"Honey, was someone at the door…?" Dawn came in carrying the paper in one hand and her coffee cup in the other. It was from a tacky U-Glaze-It they had found. "Kissing Me is Key," Xander had written on one side, with a key unlocking a pair of lips on the other.

"Dawn. It's Buffy," said Xander in a voice more suited to, "Look how natural he looks." He saw that Dawn had not put on anything. In fact, she had undone a button or two and put on some fresh lip-gloss. Probably the raspberry he liked, he thought with what he hoped were not his last thoughts.

Buffy turned, smiling, and saw Dawn. She turned back to Xander with a comment on her lips. She did a double take, eyes running up and down Dawn's long legs, much of which stretched naked from beneath the pajama top.

She turned back to Xander with a comment on her lips. She did a triple take, eyes taking in the flannel pattern of Dawn's pajama tops and comparing it to Xander's pajama bottoms.

She turned back to Xander with a comment on her lips. It stayed there on her lips, however, because her mouth refused to move, refused to form the words her brain was refusing to think.

Dawn coasted to a stop. "Buffy." Her eyes lit up. "Buffy!" She moved to give her sister a hug. As she spread her arms, her pajama top started to ride up, and she realized that her sister was decidedly not smiling. She dropped her arms and again stopped where she was.

"Dawn," said Buffy. "With Xander. In… pajamas."

"It's not what it looks like, Buffy." Xander was falling back into panic mode and he could feel his face getting hot. He knew he was blushing, and that made it worse.

"It's not?" said both Summers girls at once, staring at him.

"Buff," Xander started, taking a step towards her, and then realizing he had no idea what to say. "Dawn?" he looked to her, and was equally tongue-tied.

"Dawn, could you excuse us for just a second. Xander and I need to talk." Buffy looked reasonable and cool, in a way that truly and deeply frightened Xander.

"No," said Dawn agreeably.

"Thanks," her sister replied, then cocked her head at Dawn, "What?"

"I said," Dawn said, moving to stand next to Xander, "'No.' You can talk to both of us." She put an arm around Xander's waist and stood calmly facing her sister.

Xander looked at Dawn, then back to her sister. "So, Buffy… what brings you to Lago Vista? 'Cause if it's the sale at Crate and Barrel, I have to tell you the selection's not what they make it out to be." His attempt at humor was painful even to him. He pasted on a big nervous smile.

"Yeah. You should try the one in North Haverbrook," Dawn added helpfully. "They have the monorail there."

"Not helping, honey," Xander prison-yard-whispered to her out of the side of his mouth, big smile never faltering.

"So," Buffy started, "the plan was to tell me this when, when the kids start college? Or When Xander gets arrested and goes to jail?"

"I'm not a child anymore, Buffy," Dawn tried not to sound indignant, with partial success. "I'm over eighteen, I'm done with school, and I have my own life."

"Great. And that life includes sleeping with Xander. I love Xander." She looked at him. "We all love Xander. We don't sleep with him, Dawnie! It's not that kind of love. And he's like way old for you."

"Uh, Buffy." Xander interjected, "afraid I need to jump in on that one. When's the last time you dated anyone born in the last hundred years? Sophomore year of college?"

Her mouth thinned as she bit down on a reply. She changed her tack.

"What about school?" Buffy tried not to sound too much like the voice in her head that was always asking when she was going back to college. "You had to go to summer school to finish this year, what about college? I was thinking you'd come back to London. Giles and Willow can sort of help you out getting ready for school."

Dawn looked at Xander. "She doesn't even read the reports they send her, does she?" He shrugged. She told Buffy, "I stayed for the summer semester to finish a Lit seminar that I really enjoyed. I've taken everything they offer except trig, 'cause, you know, trig. And I had to stay anyway, 'cause I was tutoring some of the juniors in Greek."

"In Greek? But you don't speak Greek. You speak Greek?"

"And Latin. And French, Italian, Spanish, Basque, Rumanian, and about ten demonic languages but those mostly from books so my accent totally blows."

"And Yiddish, Honey, don't forget the Yiddish," Xander supplied helpfully. She looked at him and they gave each other a squeeze.

"Thanks, Tei-yerinkeh," she kissed him on the cheek. "And Yiddish. Reminds me, you promised we'd go see Pop Warner and Anne today."

"Okay, okay," said Buffy with annoyance, "so Dawn has the whole domestic post-high school thing planned out in a creepy way that I am not even going to think about. But what about you Xander, what are you thinking? You have to know this isn't right."

Xander grabbed the paper from Dawn, and held open a page to Buffy. "You want to talk not right? Take a look at the paper today, tell me what's not right."

She took it and scanned the headlines. It was the local news page. "New Job Program Breaks Even… 3 Dead in House Fire… What, is there some Big Bad awful thing burning down people's houses, that only we can stop? I don't get what this has to do with you and me."

"It has nothing to do with you, Buffy. It wasn't a demon attack or a spell gone wonky, or even just a normal evil madman bent on word conquest. Some kid plugged his Play Station into a bad outlet, and cheap wiring killed him, and killed his sister and killed is mom."

He was angry, and tore the paper from her hands and balled it in his fist.

"It's not something you can slay, or Willow can hocus pocus or Giles or Andrew can research to death. It's ordinary people living ordinary lives, and it's harder than it ought to be because the ones with the real power are off fighting the big fights."

"It's not your fault, Buffy. Only you can save the world, I understand that." He turned back to Dawn and put his arm around her shoulders. "We're tired of saving the world, we just want to make it better."

"Xander," Buffy started, struggling to digest his outburst, "Dawn, come back to London with me. There's something we can do, with the resources we have access to now…"

"You still don't get it, Buffy." Xander had a 'more in sorrow than in anger' thing going with his voice now, and Dawn put her hand on his. "It's not about you and what you can do. It's my life. My life is not the 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer Show, guest starring Willow Rosenberg, with Xander Harris as the Beaver.' My life is my life, and it's here now. You're always welcome here, but it's time you stopped trying to pull everything in your life into orbit around you."

"What about Dawnie?" Buffy asked. "Doesn't my sister belong in my life anymore?"

Xander turned to Dawn. "Don't choose. She'll always be your family, and I'll always love you wherever you go. You don't have to choose between."

Buffy said irritably, "Xander, can you lay off the smoochies fest while we're talking seriously for one minute? Please?"

"Don't call me Dawnie any more, Buffy." Dawn was calm and resolved. "I love you. Not just because you're my sister, and not just 'cause of what you've given up for me. Xander told me not to choose, but I already have. I'm staying here as long as he and I need each other. Come and visit. Come and work, or play, or just visit because you love us and miss us. But don't ever come here to fetch me home again. This is home."

There was a long silence, and they stood facing Buffy, side by side and hand in hand. Finally Buffy grinned weakly.

"Okay, point made. Point made, sharpened and driven in. It's totally pointy. I just was worried about you Dawnie… Dawn. I see you shacked up with some one-eyed pirate type in a love nest in the 'burbs. What's a sister to think?"

"Who wants waffles?" Xander said brightly.

"Or omelets, I could do an omelet while you guys get dressed," Buffy said, and her brows knit. "You are getting dressed right? Please?"

"I have the answer, O Darling Sister of Mine. Blintzes. Berry blintzes with cream, bagels and lox, fresh OJ…" She was heading toward the bedroom and calling back over her shoulder. "Poached eggs and real butter, and glasses of hot tea sweetened with jam Russian style!"

"Oh no, you had to go and hit the breakfast button," Xander said rolling his eye. "Let me get dressed, okay? Then we'll stuff your sister till she slows down to digest. It's the only strategy I've found so far that works."

"Okay," said Buffy. She could see Dawn, wearing jeans and a bra, shrugging into one of Xander's old denim work shirts. "Okay and alrighty then. I will live happily as though I had never seen that," she muttered. "I'm going to wait by the car, okay?" she called.

"See you in a minute."

"Okay, Buff!"

As she closed the door behind her, she heard something suspiciously like giggling. She'd adjusted to being a slayer, to being the Chosen, to losing her friends and family to unspeakable evil, even to being dead and ripped back into the world by powerful magic. Someday, she knew, she'd adjust to the idea of her sister dating. Just, not soon.


	11. Parts 31 to 33

XXXI.

November 12.

"Honey, we need to talk."

These are not words any man wants to hear. He especially does not want to hear them from next to him as he lies in bed at night, trying to rest up for a hard workday ahead. Xander had thrown himself into his new mission of helping the homeless and the disadvantaged, and he'd been working 20-hour days setting up a trust to help fund Habitat for Humanity projects in his area. He's taken some advice from Giles and his staff on the legal structures, but all the actual resources were coming from him.

"Do we need to talk now?" He knew the answer was yes, or she would have waited, but the lazy, sleepy part of his brain was demanding one last weaseling-out attempt.

"Do you want me to move out?" Her voice was very low and soft in the dark, and he jerked around to be sure he'd heard her right.

"Do I… Dawn, is there something wrong? Are you unhappy?"

"I just wondered. I've been staying here, and we never really talked about it. And I know you love me and you take good care of me, but there's always this line." She stopped, waiting for him to speak.

"I'm not sure what you mean, honey. Of course I want you to stay, this is your home."

"Is it? I know you're subletting, and the lease is coming up. You left the bills out and when I was sorting those files for you to take to FedEx I noticed it. I just thought, maybe you weren't happy living here with me."

"Well," said Xander, reaching out to hold her closer, "it's not perfect living this way right now, but it won't last forever. We can make do."

"But we don't!" Her pain shocked him. "We don't make do, we don't make love, we don't make anything. Is it Kasey? I was scared I might be pregnant before, and now you don't want to touch me." She turned and tried to sit up.

"Hey, get back here you." He made a long arm and snagged her round the waist, and lay his cheek against her shoulder blade. "You got to talk. Don't I get a turn?"

"I'm sorry," she said. "I just don't understand."

"Well, you could ask me, you adorable lunk-head." He kissed her back and his stubbly chin tickled her. "I'm sorry I've been so busy, getting things set up for the trust. And I do love you, I do want you."

She looked back at him. "Really?"

"At first I was glad to take things slow. This week I've been so busy with something else, I've been scared to start something I might not be completely focused on. You deserve all my attention."

"So I've been distracting huh?"

"Very. Very very. Do you want to know what I've been working on aside from the trust or do you want me to surprise you?"

"Mmm, I trust you. Surprise me."

"I will."

XXXII.

November 23.

Xander peeked at Dawn, who was trying her best to fight through his lasagna recipe in the small kitchen. She had grown up a lot over the last few years, but cooking was still a pretty recent addition to her domestic goddess arsenal, and she had thrown herself into it as she did most learning.

There just wasn't enough room in the apartment for her to really experiment with cooking. You need space to make mistakes when cooking, and he figured they needed to do something about that.

They also needed to do something about their sleeping arrangements. As much as the 'taking it slow 'cause I love you' talk had helped, it was getting harder for both of them to not take the relationship to a new level, and Xander had something he really wanted to accomplish first.

He called Carlos, ducking back into the bedroom for a semblance of privacy.

"Hola, Pirate," came the warm voice of the short but powerful man. They had worked on a number of projects over the previous year and become pretty good friends. Carlos was the building inspector for Habitat and had given up a lucrative career as a union stonemason in LA to take the job.

"Hey, Coco. Is everything set for this weekend?"

"Yeah, man. I need you to finish the moldings and chair rail at the Dixons' tomorrow so we can get your project finished and everything cleaned up though, okay?"

"Fair enough. Thanks a lot, man."

"Hey, Xander, you act like I shouldn't know where we got the money to guarantee this new project. So, you know, I'm not saying, but I'm just saying, you know?"

"No worries, Coco. See you tomorrow after the Dixons' place is done."

He came back to the front room to see Dawn eying a lasagna-like object in a slightly smoking pan.

"It's a little burnt, but the salad and the bread look okay," she said apologetically.

He went to her and paid the toll, a kiss on her neck as he passed, and looked at the table, checked out the lasagna pan. It didn't look serious.

"You made Cajun! Blackened lasagna is my favorite. Let's eat!"

"Some days I love you more than most, Xander."

XXXIII.

November 25, the day before Thanksgiving.

"I thought we were taking the day off?" Dawn was driving, following Xander's directions to a part of town she had not visited before. "I was going to drive over to Ogdenville and check out the community college there."

"You can, later, if you want. You can register for spring term up to December 3rd, I checked."

"Okay, is this the street?"

"Yes." Xander pointed up ahead. "We're looking for a place on the right, about half way down."

"These are all new. I mean some of them aren't even done yet. Is this where you work?" She was getting suspicious, afraid he was going to back out of his promised day off to go into work.

"A lot, yeah. I'd guess I put some work into almost every house on this street."

"Wow. It's great. Like Sunnydale must have looked before the trees grew in and the cemeteries went express-lane." She pulled up in front of a two-story house, not the biggest on the block, but with a few more trees in the yard, soaker hoses still running to settle in the new landscaping.

Xander looked past her, then consulted a piece of paper he shielded from Dawn's view. "Yes, ma'am, this is the one. I'll just be a minute… unless you want to come with?" he added as he climbed out.

"Okay, wait for me." She turned off the car and followed him up the walk. "I give, you win," she said as they reached the porch. She whispered as they stepped to the door, "I admit I'm stumped. Why are we here?"

Xander made as if to knock on the door, then pushed it with his hand and watched it swing open. He tried not to grin as she looked in.

There was a short entry hallway, bright with light from overhead windows at the top of the stairwell. The stairs were hardwood, not carpeted, with a solid rail and simple posts, elegant.

There was a large bow across the base of the stairway, and from its ribbon hung a streamer that said "Welcome Home." Dawn turned to Xander. He was waiting a little anxiously for her reaction.

"You didn't. I mean, you didn't."

"Yes, I did. Go inside."

She walked in, dazed, as dreamily as Willy Wonka in the Candy Room. She looked at the front room on one side, which would be just right for a big dining room table. On the other side was a family room that ran back all the way to the back of the house, where she imagined the TV and comfy chairs would go, and the smell of popcorn on movie nights.

She followed around to the kitchen, which had one exterior wall all in exposed brick, with a nook for a breakfast table, and a bar for eating cereal on high stools, and a mudroom leading to the back so your boots don't track into the kitchen. Everywhere there were the little details you don't see in new houses: chair rails with detail carvings, crown moldings, coat hooks in antique brass on a rail in the mudroom, and a window seat in the family room looking out over the back yard.

The back yard was small, but had a tree shading the kitchen windows, and it sloped away just a bit which might help keep it from flooding during California's fifth season (spring, summer, fall, Christmas Day, and mud being the five seasons as defined by her mother). There was a wooden structure to one side that looked like it might be a grape arbor, with vines starting to climb it and planters of fresh herbs and flowers at each end, with a bench on one side and a swing on the other.

Dawn continued her exploration, while Xander watched with interest. He waited for her to say something. She made a few little gasps when she noticed things like the beaded paneling that textured the washroom wall, but she was getting quieter and quieter.

They returned to the stairway, and she looked at the bow. She raised her brows at him and he nodded, moving the ribbon away so she could climb the stairs. He followed her, taking the chance to admire the way her trim figure looked in her sundress. At the top of the stairs, she stopped and looked at him.

"I can't believe it. You bought a house."

"Not quite." He looked around, and ran his hand over the newel post at the top of the stair rail. "We'd started this one as a show model, and once I had the trust funded enough to cover costs, I optioned this one from the project manager. I've been working here before my other jobs a few hours a day all month. I didn't just buy it, I built it."

"It's beautiful. You've done an amazing job. I'm glad you kept it a secret though. If I'd known you were getting yourself a house I bet I would have been all over trying to make suggestions."

He frowned. "Is there that much wrong with it? I haven't even shown you the bedrooms or the guest room slash library slash nursery or, or you know, whatever…" He trailed off after realizing he had said the word nursery out loud. He'd always thought of the extra room tucked by the master bedroom as a nursery, but he supposed it could be a sewing room or whatever just as well.

"Wrong? Oh, Xander, no!" She hugged him and he hugged her back, confused. "It's just so perfect, and I would never have gotten it so perfect without seeing it first. You've made yourself an amazing house, and I'm so proud of you."

"Wait a minute," he protested, pulling back from her. "I'm sorry Dawn, did you think I made this for me?"

She looked at him, heart echoing hollowly in her chest. "Who is it for?" She wouldn't admit that she knew what was coming.

He took the paper he had been consulting in the car, which she had thought were directions, and turned it to show her. It was a deed, and right near the top it had her name on it.

"Dawn, I remembered what you said the first day you came here, about if you had a home this would be it. I never want you to feel like you don't have somewhere to come home to, so I made this, for you."

It was a long cry and a lot of kissing later that they finally looked at the rest of the house, the garage, and the yard. Xander made a "It worked, she likes it!" call to Robin and Faith who had helped with herb garden and landscaping respectively. It turns out slayer strength comes in very handy when laying a fieldstone path to a grape arbor. Who knew?

Dawn made a "You'll never guess where I'm calling from" call to Willow, and another to Buffy. They both promised to come out and see it, but not before Dawn had a chance to get everything settled in. She asked them to tell Giles she was going to have Xander put bookshelves along one whole side of the family room, and she expected some donations to seed the library from whatever he thought he could spare. Just nothing too evil.

It was getting late in the afternoon by the time they were done, and Xander told her they should be getting back to the apartment to start sorting out what they should move, what they should donate. They could probably move in a week if they got organized.

"A week? Alexander LaVelle Harris, if you think I am not going to spend the night in my, in OUR new house, then you are simply too crazy to be allowed. I'm going over to Pop's to get some things to put in that freezer, and you are going to run back and get everything we need for tomorrow out of the apartment."

"But, Dawn, what about-" Xander started.

"But nothing," she jumped on him, steering him towards the car. "I'll drive, you start writing down what I'll need. I'll ask Pop or Anne to run me over to that little market while you pack, and you can pick me up at Not Warner Brothers'." She was a woman on a mission, and he'd seen enough to know not to argue.

As he dropped her at the deli, she looked at the list she'd dictated to him. She realized what was missing and poked her head back in his window.

"There's a package, wrapped in paper, under that old denim shirt of yours I was wearing the other day. You know where I mean?"

"Yeah, by the laundry hamper on that middle shelf?"

"Bring it," she ordered him, kissing his cheek, then a long kiss on his lips. It was awkward through the car window but she made it worthwhile as best she could. "And no peeking!"

He drove off, munching a sandwich Pop had made for him. She decided that she'd eat some fruit while getting ready, nothing heavy. She was too excited to eat.

By the time they had said their goodbyes to Pop, Anne and even Mr. Carver, the tall and somewhat mysterious cook whom they had never before seen in the front of the deli, it was getting late. They arrived at the house well after 9:00 PM, and were both getting pretty tired by the time the last of the groceries and Dawn-mandated 'essentials' had been put away.

Xander made up a pallet of blankets in the spot in the master bedroom where their bed would someday reside. Soon, he hoped, as he had been doodling thoughts for a hardwood sleigh bed in the margins of his papers for a few weeks now, usually the sign of impending carpentry. He fluffed the pillows and changed into his flannel pajamas, grinning at Buffy's reaction to them some time back. He wondered if he should lay out the tops for Dawn or just let her steal them from him as usual.

Dawn was taking a rather long time to get ready for bed, and he figured she was soaking in the tub. He'd heard it run for a while, and when he'd asked if she wanted anything to drink before bed he'd been shooed away. He set his alarm, and put the alarm clock on his side of the pallet. With just one lamp so far, and that on the floor, there was too little light to read. He was too keyed up from the long day anyway. He wanted to unwind, and then get a good night's sleep.

"Xander, are you in bed?" came the call from the bathroom.

He was still thinking about that good night's sleep and was wondering if he could pretend to actually already be asleep. Probably not. "Uh, yeah, honey. Do you need something?"


	12. Part 34 and Sneak Preview

XXXIV.

November 26. Thanksgiving. Very early in the morning.

The door opened and she came out. She was moving slowly, with careful steps gliding around the bags of this and that they had already moved from the apartment. She wore a green nightdress, the color of grass drying in the summer sun. It had a darker border of lace around the long straight sleeves and across the collar, and it dipped in the front to show her pale, even skin from her throat down to the tops of her breasts. She knelt, smoothing the gathered dress around her as she sank next to him.

"Xander?" she breathed softly at him. Her eyes seemed huge and deep, and his breath caught in his throat as he looked at her. As she spoke, his eye followed her lips and they called to him. "Xander, thank you. For the house, for agreeing to stay here tonight. For everything."

He tore his gaze from her lips to her eyes, and was very nearly overwhelmed again. He found his voice, and gentle and low as it was it sounded harsh after her sweet softness. "I wanted to do it, for you. For us. It's my present to you for making me really live again. At last."

She took his hand, so scarred and rough but so gentle in its touch, and raised it to her heart for a moment. Then she took the emerald tie that held her dress closed in front, and pressed the end into his hand. She closed her eyes and smiled. "Aren't you going to open my present to you, Xander? At last?"

He got a good night's sleep. Eventually.

END of Book One, "The Key and the Carpenter."

By ReverendKilljoy

LOOK for Book Two, "The Sword and the Fist," to be posted soon.

Sneak Preview:

Robin Wood stood, tranquil, peaceful, in the center of a room. His eyes were open, but he was looking inward, processing with his mind and not his eyes. He was standing that way, thinking about nothing, worried about nothing, when Death came for him.

A knife flew through the air, aimed for a spot just below his shoulder blade. It was slender and black and only the slightest exhale of breath from the woman who had thrown it marked its passage. Her eyes shone and a grin began to form as the blade hurtled through the air towards Wood.

With one motion, he bent one knee and reached towards the small of his back. This caused him to drop slightly and to pivot. As he drew a small wooden sword from a sheath in his jacket, he continued to duck and turn, whipping around as he spun into the ground.

The tightly-wrapped brilliant white silk handle of his hardwood blade made his dark hands look almost ebony, as they whipped his sword through the space his body had occupied moments before. With a single sharp exhalation, he drove his bent leg straight, snapping back to his full height as his blade connected with the knife precisely where he had been standing.

"KI!" came the sound, from his mouth, from his chest, from the muscles of his arms, the powerful flesh of his legs. His whole body, just as he had been trained so long ago. Just one "KI!" and there was a knife, now whistling back the way it had came, rotating slightly from the spin of his blocking blade.

With a sigh, the knife ended its whispering flight, protruding from the throat of the woman who had thrown it. It fixed her grin, not faltering even as she slowly collapsed. A knife, buried there just so, does not kill instantly. She had time to realize that he had killed her. Then she was gone.


End file.
